


Consuming Myself (Iris)

by Suz_6_2



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Consensual Underage Sex, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Bondage, M/M, Making Out, Partying, Playlist, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Questionable Ending, Slow Burn, Starker, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, tony like hates himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suz_6_2/pseuds/Suz_6_2
Summary: Both of them knew better. Tony was an adult, and Peter was a child.Maybe he had done it or the sake of dirtying the teenager up. Or, maybe to have the clean rub off on to him; make him a better man than he could ever hope to be.He knew he has made horrible choices, so would this really change anything?(Tags will be added.)





	1. The First Seed, Planted

**Author's Note:**

> Spotify playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/szdd9beast25w67dfvr7gdjau/playlist/5Sts78p504pGE8vVlYXeI8?si=pvp9PYwfSjeGvhvJZIXIRg
> 
> This will be updated while the story progresses, and it is preferred to listen to in order. There will be a YouTube playlist coming once the story has ended.
> 
> This is going to be dark towards the end of this story. 
> 
> Leave feedback, I love to hear opinions about my work.

* * *

_"They say Brandy,_

_You're a fine girl,_

_What a good wife_

_You would be."_

* * *

 

“FRIDAY, open Baby Monitor Protocol from Peter Parker and display it on the main screen in my lab.”

 

“You got it, Boss.”

 

FRIDAY seemed more brighter recently, since Tony had set in the new tweaks through the programing system. The AI now responding and interacting more to fill in the loneliness he felt more recently, it made him feel better about the empty floors of Stark Tower.

 

Currently, Tony was sitting on one of the leather chairs in his personal lab near the ground levels of the new Avengers facility, the huge flat screen TV mounted to the wall now lighting up with footage from Peter’s patrols through the city.

 

He had not meant for it to become a habit. It had started with boredom, mostly, when Tony had nothing to do and all his projects had been finished for the day. He would just ask the now perky AI to bring up the footage from the kid’s suit, and watch it through quickly before heading off to do something else that needed to be tended to before leaving the floor. Soon, the watching sessions became longer and Tony started to pay attention to more detail than he had thought, and soon it became a daily occurrence of watching the kid fly around Queens, helping people here and there with petty crimes. The chair he now sat on was permanently molded to his ass, now that he sat in it so often to watch through the eyes of the spider.

 

It was somewhat therapeutic to Tony at this point, even though the drastic swinging motions gave the man headaches and the grunts of the kid getting very annoying after a while. He wondered if the kid ever felt this way, but then he had remembered that Peter mentioned once that his senses are substantially reduced in the suit that Tony had made him.

 

As the footage whizzed passed him, Tony had thought of different things to add to the suit once he let off on the Training Protocol for the kid. New web settings, different ways to adjust the suit fitting wise, and new design features for the inside computer when Peter needed assistance. It was the perfect suit. Tony had even designed an unnamed AI just for Peter, which the kid frequently talked to and used for whatever issue he had at the time. Tony made it more connective than his previous design programs, being more responsive and more caring; almost as if another person was with Peter completely. He never hoped the kid would feel as he did.

 

Tony watched the kid through the eyes of the suit, the timestamp on the bottom of the screen showing that Peter was just getting out into the neighborhood at around three, and ending his adventure around eight in the evening, when the footage abruptly stopped inside Peter’s bedroom.

 

Most of the patrol was innocent; Peter standing on top of a building, looking over the city and glancing at what used to be Avengers tower, Peter stopping a guy from stealing some milk, Peter shaking some woman’s hand, and finally, Peter just sitting on top of a skyscraper watching the sun set over Queens and the rest of New York City. Then, the footage always stopped in the kid’s room.

 

Tony suddenly felt the emptiness of the entire facility this late into the evening; all the unnecessary staff had left hours ago to go home to their families. Rhodes wasn’t within the walls because he needed some time away from the political drama that was the remnants of the accords. Tony had taken it harshly; however, he was slowly getting numb to all the drama occurring within the facility.

 

The black screen of the TV almost seemed to mock him.

 

He just sighed, got up out of the leather chair and made his way to the opening of the lab. The door was way too wide just for one person, but it almost seemed to shrink around him as he stood within the doorway. Gazing over all his equipment, he made an order to FRIDAY.

 

“FRIDAY, shut the lab down. I'll be back tomorrow per usual.”

 

Tony saw the lights around him slowly dim, and all the holographic computers slowly fading until they no longer existed before his eye. Soon, he was staring into a dark room, and decided to walk off into his quarters.

 

The kid had been on his mind often these days. Peter started school again last week, and his patrols have been significantly shorter now that he is a junior in his high school. The kid worked hard; Tony knew that, and he could use some talent like that in the facility here upstate. However, when Peter had turned down to be an Avenger, Tony knew he had lost the opportunity to ever gain the kid on the team before he had finished high school. From what he saw through the suit, Peter seemed to enjoy the undercover life, almost like he had gotten a high every time he went out of his way to help someone. Tony knew he had enjoyed it, because he had felt the same when Iron Man first came about years ago.

 

His thoughts drifted off more as he stepped inside of his quarters, the warmth of his own room engulfing him. Tony sighed as he shrugged off his long sleeve shirt, tossing it to the side somewhere. He flopped face first onto the bed, sighing and letting himself sink into the soft fabric. Somewhere in his deep thoughts, he knew he would be going back to his penthouse in New York that he had recently purchased. The fact that it had hardly been furnished gave him some work to do.

 

Before Tony fell asleep, he had thought of the possibility that Peter could help him clean up the apartment. He oddly missed the kid.

 

-

 

In the morning, Tony sat at the breakfast table alone with his laptop on the shiny surface, typing away at emails that were (currently) at top priority, a bowl of cereal hardly touched at his right side.

 

He had texted Peter early, before the kid went to school, asking about the help of furnishing his penthouse. Peter had yet to respond to the short text, and Tony was anxious about getting a reply, bouncing his foot to an invisible beat, feeling his jeans rub his legs almost violently. Something about a short text that did not get a reply got him on edge.

 

Before Tony could worry more about the subject and blow out way out of proportion, Agent Ross came into the room with his shoes clicking against the floor.

 

“You’re here just a tad early, don’t you think?” Tony shoved a spoonful of Honey Oats into his mouth, watching as Ross closed the dining room door behind him. Immediately a bad sign.

 

“You are here early also.” Ross stated flatly, pulling out one of the chairs across from Tony and sitting down. The windows behind him showed the New York countryside, the sun rising above the hills and casting shadows over the trees.

 

“Ross, I live here, it is my job to be here early.” Tony ate another spoonful of his breakfast before pushing his laptop aside, loudly, trying to make a point that he was currently busy with other matters that did not include having conversations with agents who are overly nosey. “As you can see,” Tony formally said, “I am currently busy, so whatever you have, it needs to be quick.”

 

“Why?” asked Ross, leaning slightly back in his chair. Tony could almost see the smirk on his face. “Your procrastination gets the best of you? Emailing back people in a hurried manner because you didn’t have the sense to do so earlier in the week?”

 

He laughed at Ross’s comment. “Stark, I'll just wait until you are finished.”

 

Tony just smiled and returned to his work, promptly ignoring Ross in front of him, who was patiently waiting for him to finish his work. As he typed away at his keyboard, he kept glancing over at his phone, waiting for the screen to light up with Peter’s name.

 

 

-

 

Peter stared down at his phone in his hand, reading the words over and over in his head, like a broken or scratched record, playing on repeat.

 

_“Hey, kid. I bought a penthouse over in the city, need help furnishing it. Want to help over the weekend?”_

Peter picked at the volume buttons of his iPhone and sunk further down in his chair. It was before first period, and he had his hood pulled up over his head, blocking his peers from viewing his face; the navy material in his peripheral vision. He continued to stare at his screen while kids filed into the classroom, not paying attention to anything other than the music in his headphones and the letters that was displayed in front of him.

 

What was he supposed to say? Yeah, sure Mr. Stark, in my unlimited free time I will help you move in to a new apartment that I will only dream of affording, with all your rich things.

 

Peter just sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket, glancing up just in time to see Ned walk into the room.

 

“Peter!” he exclaimed, making his way past the rows of desks to the back of the room. “What are you doing back here? You’ve never sat in the back of the class.”

 

Peter sighed at Ned, weighing his options. It wasn’t that big of a deal; however, Stark had never seen Peter if he wasn’t in trouble, or about business. In fact, he hasn’t seen Mr. Stark since when he had traveled upstate, to the new Avengers property. He remembers Tony’s hand on him vividly, shivering within his hoodie. Ned only knew that Peter had technically lost the internship over with Tony Stark, and in the end, Peter just kept the text invitation to himself.

 

“I just…I’m not in the mood to deal with anything today, Ned.” Peter just sighed and watched the teacher return to the room just as the late bell rang, Ned also sitting next to him, waiting for class to start.

 

For most of first period, Peter had his head off somewhere else, drifting in the sea of information around him that he cared not to focus on. He instead thought about Tony Stark, and what he would do with the message he had received.

 

Peter know he was starting to overthink everything; this wasn’t the first time his thoughts had taken the best of him. He was overthinking the entire situation, he was sure, and he needed an out from it all. Peter saw Tony as a celebrity crush; who didn’t think of the Tony Stark that way? The issue was how in the world, people don’t meet their celebrity crush; those things don’t just happen. It wasn’t normal. So what was Peter to do when Tony just showed up one day after school in his sophomore year?

 

The rest of the first half of the day went like this; agonizing over how to respond to Tony without seeming too excited to help him move furniture.

 

At lunch, Ned was rambling off on something to Peter’s right, using his hands to express his distaste to whatever he was thinking about. Peter, meanwhile, had his phone in his hands once again, typing and retyping out a message. He had rewritten the thing almost 5 times now, occasionally being distracted by Ned.

 

Peter instead sighed and slapped his phone down on the table in frustration.

 

“Woah, dude, you okay?” Ned asked, worried. “You’ve been acting weird all morning.”

 

“Do you know how to text someone you’re excited to do something even though you don’t want to come off as too exciting?” Peter asked, looking towards his friend for the first time during their half hour to eat.

 

“Peter, that’s kind of a weird question, considering I hardly text anyone besides MJ and you, bud.” Ned replied, taking his sandwich and biting the last half. Peter mentally slapped himself, forgetting that they hardly had other friends to compare to.

 

“Right, right. Nevermind then.” Peter waved his hand and felt the outline of his phone on the table, staring into the scratches.

 

It was almost at the end of the school day when he finally wrote out an understandable text to Tony, and ultimately sent the message a couple minutes before the last bell a quarter to three. It read:

 

“Sure, it’ll be fun. Maybe we can go over some new configurations for the suit. Should check with May first. Give me time?”

 

Peter wasn’t even out of school property before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

 

_“Sure, kid. Call me when you get back to your apartment, I'll talk to May.”_


	2. The First Sprout (Thoughts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Tons of support from the first chapter, I'm so surprised actually. Again, feedback is much appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

  _"There is really nothing worse_

_Than knowing how it ends._

* * *

 

Peter had been home for over an hour now, working on some assignment for economics when May came into the apartment. He glanced over at his cracked open bedroom door, seeing May drop her purse onto the island in the kitchen. She looked exhausted, as she usually did after a long day. Peter always felt as if he could help her, but never got the time to ask. Instead, he took his phone in his hands and got up out of the squeaky chair, standing in the doorway.

 

He half considered not telling May at all about Tony. He could just lie to her this weekend, tell her that he was seeing Ned. May had never liked Tony Stark; Peter knew that, and somehow, he had the feeling that she would not let him be alone with the man anytime soon.

 

Thinking of this, he let himself unlock his phone and open his texts, tapping on the contact “Mr. Stark”.

 

“I’m good to go. Where and when?”

 

The ‘sent’ sound was all he heard before May was calling Peter into the kitchen. The sound of her voice soothed him, and he threw his phone on the bed before heading over to where she was standing near the island. May had always been a simple woman, wearing nothing too flashy or expensive. This included now, with a plain white tee-shirt over tightly fitted black pants. Professional, of course.

 

“Yes?” Peter asked, leaning against the counter top, one hand along the surface and the other holding his head up.

 

“Hey, honey.” Aunt May smiled at her nephew, trying her best to hide her exhaustion. Peter saw right through it.

 

“May, this weekend, Ned offered to have me over at his house for most of Saturday. Is that good with you?” Peter asked attentively, sitting up straight and playing with the hem of his shirt. He could see the look of thoughtfulness on his aunt’s face, weighing the options of what he had said.

 

“I mean, I don’t see a huge problem with it. How long will you be out?”

 

Peter looked off to the side, swearing internally. He had not thought of that. Instead of ‘asking’ Ned, peter just spit out a random time frame, his aunt nodding. The moving would take place during the better half of Saturday afternoon, and Peter had mentioned that he would be home before sunset at around eight. May just nodded and proceeded to take out some cookware, attempting cooking for the evening. They exchanged some more small talk, before Peter left to go into his room once more.

 

Picking up his phone, he texted the new information to Mr. Stark, despite having not received a response to his previous text. His fingers typed fast, adding questions at the end along the lines of ‘when and where are we meeting’. After finishing, Peter swiped on his screen to call Ned, who picked up after the third ring.

 

“Peter?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me. Ned, I need a favor.”

 

“Sure, go for it.” Ned sounded relaxed, so peter calmly explained the situation, and how he wanted his friend to cover for him. There was silence on the other end for a moment, but then laughter echoed in Peter’s ear.

 

“Let me get this straight,” Ned said, in between puffs of laughter, “You want me, your best friend, to lie to your aunt about you hanging out with me, when instead, you will be helping a billionaire slash superhero move into a penthouse, and tweaking your spider suit?”

 

Peter ended up laughing as well, realizing how stupid the sentence sounded out loud. He was sneaking off to see some adult that his aunt wouldn’t approve of. When did Peter’s life become a chick flick?

 

“Yes, essentially that Ned. Thank you for the explanation.” Peter was still giggling while Ned sighed out a breath, pausing to think about what Peter had really asked of him.

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind covering for you Peter. Just be sure to tell me what kind of rich things that Tony Stark has going into the new penthouse.” Ned snickered, Peter could hear his smile over the phone. He sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed, his feet getting tired from how long he had been standing. The conversation sped on to what Tony Stark could have owned with his piles of money, and what new gadgets Peter could perhaps see. Before the both knew it, Peter was lying flat on his back and joking around with his friend.

 

“Hey Peter, my mom is calling me for dinner. I'll see you at school tomorrow.”

 

During the long conversation that they had both endeavored in, Peter saw that a new text from Mr. Stark had come in, the unread message showing up in his notification bar.

 

_“I'll pick you up in one of my cars, ten o’clock in the morning in front of your apartment. We’ll go from there.”_

 

Peter sighed and flopped his phone on to his chest, starting to feel butterflies in his stomach. This was because of two reasons.

 

The first, was wondering which car Mr. Stark would pick him up in. He had only seen a sliver of the number of automobiles that the billionaire owned, and thought of all the other possibilities that he had yet to see. Peter had thought of all the colors, models, the sleek leather interiors, the clean and polished exteriors. It made him jumpy to imagine all the possibilities.

 

The second, was that _Tony freaking Stark_ was going to personally pick him up, and take him to an apartment, _alone_.

 

Peter’s head started to spin. He wouldn’t say that he had a crush on Mr. Stark, that would be irrational. It was more of an obsession with an idea, of how there could be something between them. There had been to evidence of this besides faint touches, like in the new Avengers facility, but those could be easily be father-like. Caring, even. Peter was a teenager with raging hormones, he knew that much, so the whole affair could be just in his head. In fact, he was adamant that it was all in his head. There was no way Tony Stark could ever want a kid like him. He was a billionaire, he could have anyone he wanted.

 

And Peter? He was a teenager in high school, and a super hero that no one even knew was him.

 

-

 

Tony Stark was never one to spend money uselessly. Yes, he has made rash decisions that usually included spending millions, however, they usually had a satisfactory result that paid off.

 

The penthouse, was different.

 

Tony, in truth, missed New York. With the move from Avengers Tower to upstate, it really put a stress on him to make sure everything was moved properly and in order. Happy did help with that situation, thank God. However, after getting homesick of the city (after only a week of living upstate), Tony started searching for penthouses in the highest buildings of the city. A month later, Tony owned a brand-new apartment, over three thousand square feet, two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a living room, dining room, a study, and a balcony overlooking most of Manhattan.

 

Now, Tony was sitting in the makeshift desk he had set up in his bedroom, looking on his laptop at pictures of the penthouse. He realized, when he bought it, that he had no use for it other than to spend a few weekends in, alone, watching New York pass by. He had considered to use it as a love nest, bringing back girls from clubs to have a quick fuck.

 

Tony realized he might want to buy a nice, soft bed for that.

 

Hours later, in the lab, footage of Peter was playing on the TV. He was out later than usual, due to starting a little later as well. Tony knew Peter had stopped by his apartment first, assuming so he could talk to May about letting the kid help him this weekend. He was glad Peter could, but now, he just had to order everything to be delivered to the address.

 

Tony sat with a notepad in his lap, full of all the essential furniture/gadgets on a check list in front of him. While peter swung from building to building, he took his pen and scratched lines through the items on the list. The penthouse would be equipped with FRIDAY, of course, and elegant furniture that he found online. He found all the necessary essentials, basically the bare minimum to live.

 

While ordering the bed sheets, Tony heard the unmistakable sound of Peter falling to the ground and rolling over, essentially coughing out a lung. He dropped the note pad on to the floor, standing up and heading over to one of the holographic computers, ready to press the emergency button. Truthfully, the button connected straight to the suit and made it the option for Tony to directly speak to the kid, even though for now, he preferred to stay hidden from Peter.  He did not want the kid knowing that he was watching his patrols when he could, analyzing his fight patterns and uses of his suit.

 

Peter now got up, shaking off any pain he felt and shooting another web upward, towards the top of a building to his right. The kid seemed to be alright, although his breathing was slightly shallow and fast. Tony prayed it was just a quick scare.

 

The rest of the night went, overall, uneventful from Peter’s side. Other than falling off the side of some structure that Tony had not gotten to look at, the kid seemed to be enjoying himself for the most part. He was getting tired; Tony knew from the way he was starting to lag in reaction time and swinging. He mentally asked Peter to please take it slow, rest, or just go home; before he seriously gets hurt and something goes wrong, worse than before.

 

The kid did stop, eventually. At around nine, he retires to his local apartment complex, climbing into the window and settling down to take his mask off, where the footage abruptly stops every time. The black screen returned, leaving Tony to stare at his reflection. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt less lonely watching Peter, for it made him feel like he had company. With the TV off now, he truly felt alone in the lab.

 

Tony had finished his house planning hours ago; the only issue was to get all the supplies to the house on time for Saturday. The thought really set in just then; that he would be spending all of Saturday with Peter, and he would be moving into his penthouse for the next week or so, before having to come back to upstate New York to deal with Agent Ross and his requirements as head of the Avengers. Tony despised the title, despite the responsibilities that came with it.

 

Sighing, Tony grabbed his list of essentials and gathered his things, looking back at all his gadgets.

 

He took his pen and wrote on the notepad, “at least one holographic computer” before telling FRIDAY to shut down the lab.


	3. The First Leaf Bud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spotify Playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/szdd9beast25w67dfvr7gdjau/playlist/5Sts78p504pGE8vVlYXeI8?si=ikqRrZqDSqCAt0OK55g68A

* * *

  _"And I meant_

_Everything I said that night_

_I will come back to life_

_But only for you."_

* * *

 

Peter stood tall as he leaned against the brick wall of his apartment building, sweat building up on his brow from the heat. This could have been from the light jacket that he was wearing, or the long jean pants, however he was adamant that it was the left-over heat from the August air.

 

The weather was moderate, dark clouds rolling in but no sign of raining. Peter’s senses would have smelled or sensed the rain approaching, but he had not felt anything besides the clouds, making the usually bright sky a tiny bit darker for the events that would take place later.

 

Peter had found his nerves all over the place. How could he not be? _Hello, childhood celebrity crush calling, when do you want to come help me lift stuff into my new rich crib?_

 

Okay, exaggeration. Peter knew that this wasn’t going to be easy, on all levels. His body does have extra strength, however this will be over the period of hours, so he is not sure how long his body will hold out for the most part. To add on to this, he will be seeing Mr. Stark for the first time in months, and he will have to refrain from staring at the businessman for too long; God forbit that he wears extremely tight-fitting clothes.

 

He has never been so nervous for anything in his life so far.

 

Then, a thought crossed his mind. _In his life so far_. He was again, reminded of his age of being only 16 whole years, and the fact that the person who he liked could have been his father. How could Peter even have a chance?

 

The thoughts were suppressed by the logic of Peter’s conscious brain, bringing him back into reality when he heard the roar of an engine nearing him, one that sounded too rough and too loud to be in this neighborhood. He saw the yellow sports car pull up in front of him, so clean and polished that he could see his own reflection in the metal among the surface. He sighed and walked forward to the black tinted windows, and to the passenger side door, which when he opened, the door swung out in a scissoring motion instead of straight out. Peter almost forgot how to move for a second while he saw the hydraulics move the car door to completely open.

 

Inside was a smiling Tony Stark, who was looking at the kid like he had just opened a Christmas present.

 

Peter smiled back as he hopped into the sleek vehicle, even more astonished by the interior of black, glossy leather along with yellow accents along the seats, dashboard and steering wheel. Tony obviously noticed the kid’s interest, so he spoke up in a fond voice, explaining the car to Peter.

 

“Lamborghini Huracan. Yellow with accented interior. Nice, huh?” He asks, looking at Peter while he drives away, the revving of the engine filling his ears. He couldn’t speak, still taking in the sight of the car. In the back of his mind, Peter prayed that Aunt May had not noticed the _very_ eye-catching car.

 

“So, kid. The apartment is at the edge of Manhattan, and when we head there, the stuff I ordered for furnishing should be there in a huge truck. Most of the heavy stuff should already be up there, if the movers did their job.” Tony laughed at that last remark, and Peter guessing that he had paid the people moving his heavy furniture a very generous amount. How could he not, if he could afford a very fine apartment in Manhattan?

 

Peter had looked up the area where Mr. Stark had mentioned where the apartment would be, and the penthouses there were not cheap. They were all bigger than the small place where he and May now lived, and the cost at least a couple times multiplied than what they were paying now. He felt out of his league, in this car, heading to just the same kind of luxury apartment, with the man who owned too much money for his own good.

 

The more Peter focused on the money, two kinds of thoughts were currently battling it out in his mind. The first one was obvious; if he did get involved with Tony Stark, how fast would he become his Sugar Daddy? The second thought was more of a simple fact, a depressing phrase, textbook normality.

 

Out of his league.

 

The drive took longer than anticipated due to traffic, despite only driving about 20 miles. While piles of concreate passed Peter, he only listened to the radio, and tried to pay attention to Tony as loosely as possible, in fear that he would embarrass himself more than he knows he evidently will later into the ordeal.

 

Tony didn’t make much effort to talk, and the longer it dragged on, the more tension Peter could feel within the car. About halfway there, Tony decided to start a small conversation to him about school, and Peter tried his best to keep it going without it staling out, and it seemed to have worked in his favor when Tony occasionally laughed or smiled.

 

Finally, they arrived at the penthouse.

 

-

 

 

When they pulled up to the building that held the penthouse, the sheer size of it made Peter gasp.

 

The structure had to at least be 15 stories high, covered in polished glass and reflected the dark clouds off its seemingly mirror-like surface. As he stepped out of the car, Tony kept looking at the kid as he stared up in awe, taking in the whole scenery before him. He slightly smiled to himself, glad that the kid could already be seen enjoying the afternoon.

 

Surely enough, the truck that Tony had rented stood next to the building as well, full of all the electronics that he could remember putting in there, ready for Peter to look at and help set up. The kid was still getting out of the car when Tony opened the back of the moving truck, seeing all the familiar equipment.

 

“Well, kid?” He turned back, searching for Peter, and motioned for the kid to come over to the equipment. Then, they naturally got to work.

 

To Tony, the work wasn’t too much; only about five trips up and down the elevator packed full of things to get inside the penthouse. He did not see Peter struggle with any of it, however, on the last trip upwards, he could tell the kid was getting anxious. Perhaps he really wanted to see what Tony had in store equipment wise?

 

Once they got fully inside the space that Tony had bought, about 10 or so boxes around them, Peter and Tony began to open them one by one, taking out essentials for the apartment.

 

“Mr. Stark?”

 

Tony, didn’t know what he was expecting when he looked over at Peter. Perhaps the kid would be holding up a picture, or a small device, asking its significance or what it does. But when Tony looked over at him, he saw neither of these things.

 

Tony was met face to face with Peter, bending over a box. And what a view it was.

 

At first, Tony didn’t even know how to form words, for he was surprised to see Peter’s ass right in his field of view. The jeans that he was wearing hugged his skin perfectly, making Tony’s mouth go dry at the sight of it.

 

“Um, yeah kid?” He internally cringed at the use of the word ‘kid’, trying to remind himself that Peter was 16. He almost fumbled over his words, attempting but failing to find them as they were stuck in his throat.

 

His eyes were forced to be taken away from Peter as he moved, holding up some broken piece of glass. Tony couldn’t even bother to look at what the kid was holding, but instead at that young face of his, trying to convince himself that he had not just _checked the kid out when he wasn’t even looking_. However, when Peter saw that Tony kept staring at him, he shot back a questioning look, wondering what was the issue. Tony had to tear his eyes away, looking somewhere off to the side, far away from Peter.

 

“Just throw whatever’s broken in the trash, Peter. Don’t cut your hands.”

 

Saying those words alone were difficult, making his voice strained. Peter didn’t move at first, completely going red, but eventually got up to move into the kitchen to throw away the glass. Tony regretted another look at the behind of Peter a second time while he walked.

 

The rest of sorting out the furnishing went silent after that, Tony trying not to stare at Peter, and the kid obviously knowing that something was wrong. Tony had tried his best to stay in other rooms of the vast space, but he could not get the image out of his head.

 

Why did this have to happen now? Of all the times that this could have happened, it had to be when Tony was single and alone, in a new apartment, with unused bedsheets, where the thought suddenly popped up of taking Peter and throwing him down on them, messing up the white cleanliness. Tony shook his head and hung up one more suit in the closet, looking down into the box of clothes.

 

That was the problem; Tony was single and alone, he lost Pepper that summer, and now his brain was subconsciously looking for a replacement, trying to get over the trauma of his last breakup. That’s all that this was, and nothing more.

 

But even Tony knew, that this was not the case. In the past, his rebounds would have already happened, and they wouldn’t be more than rushed one night stands along with the occasional date that would eventually end up in a one-night stand. He felt that this was different however, and couldn’t place his finger on it as to why.

 

As Tony hung up his last suit, Peter walked into the room, rushed and holding an empty box in his hands.

 

“Mr. Stark, did I do something wrong?” He asked, his voice shaken and unsteady. Tony sighed and put his head in his hands quickly, and looking up at Peter, tried to make a fond face without seeming creepy.

 

“No, kid, I just needed a minute. You didn’t do anything.” After saying this, he could see the kid easily loosen up, his shoulders untensing and relaxing into a neutral pose. Peter looked around the closet, which was in the main bedroom, before snapping his head back to Tony, eyes wide. Instantly, Tony knew that he had figured it out.

 

“Mr. Stark, you were looking at me…when I was bent over, you were _looking_ at me…”

 

Tony could never forget how Peter had said those words. They sounded, scared, almost, however, they had a bit of curiosity in them, along with a touch of amazement.

 

They stood there, unmoving together, and staring at each other. Tony new he should be saying something, _anything_ to _defend_ himself, however he just stood there, unable to look away from Peter’s beautiful face. It was staring right back at him, expecting an answer to some unknown question.

 

“Peter…” Tony started, however he was cut off by Peter’s voice, once more shaking and unsteady. This kept reminding him that Peter was only a kid, he has no experience with relationships, not even in the slightest.

 

“Mr. Stark… _Tony_ …” He saw the kid take a step forward, but Tony stopped him before he could get too far into his personal space.

 

“Kid, don’t say my name like that. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He could see Peter visibly cringe at the title of ‘kid’, however it was completely true and necessary.

 

“Then defend yourself!” Peter was raising his voice slightly, enough to stress that he was beginning to become upset about the situation. “Say you weren’t looking at me, that it was all in my head, that I didn’t feel your eyes on me, that you have no thoughts of doing anything to me!”

 

Peter was freaking out, Tony could tell that much. He, however, couldn’t defend himself in any way, because he wouldn’t lie to the kid, and he also did not know if he could pass off as lying, unsure if he could even be convincing. He was caught red handed, and he had to admit defeat.

 

“Look, Peter…I think it would be best that you head on home, yeah? I'll get someone to drive you.” Tony would have driven the kid home himself, but based on the current situation, that might be even worse to confine the tension to the small space of a car, rather than the spacious penthouse.

 

Peter opened his mouth to object, but Tony had cut him off before he had the chance to.

 

“Peter, we will talk about this later. Not in an apartment where we are alone and there is an unused bed right next to us.”

 

That seemed to do the trick, as Peter stepped back and became visibly relaxed. He let his head down, but only for a second, and looked back up at Tony, the fear in his eyes apparent.

 

“Peter, later. I promise. Later.”


	4. The Presence of Water, Tasted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, the chapter titles are somewhat plant based? It'll make sense when the fic is done and I will explain it. Maybe you can take some guesses to what it signifies ;)

* * *

  _"Cause if I don't have your love_

_Then this life means nothing."_

* * *

 

Peter groaned as he shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans, throwing his head back against the walls of the lockers. Instantly, he felt pain all over his skull, and groaned even louder. Ned stood next to him, shoving books into his own locker, looking at Peter bang his head literally against a wall.

 

It had been three days, and Tony Stark had not said a word.

 

Given, Peter had not bothered to even try contacting Mr. Stark, due to his embarrassment of the situation, and not wanting to seem desperate for the man. He hoped that Ned would not notice that he not only was visibly anxious, but also checking his phone every thirty seconds and constantly looking at the clock for the time.

 

“When you have to go to the nurse for a concussion, don’t bother asking me for the science notes.” Ned laughed and shut his locker, twisting the dial and adjusting his backpack. Peter just smiled and started to walk to their shared first period.

 

“Seriously though Peter, what’s going on with you?”

 

Peter couldn’t even form the issue into words in his mind.

 

“Nothing major Ned, just personal issues at home. You don’t need to worry about me right now.” He looked to his friend and smiled, remembering more important things for later that day. “Instead, we should worry about finishing the Death Star Lego set. Want to come over after school?”

 

-

 

Peter held up a short Lego piece, snapping it together with a different flat part, the similar sound filling his ears. He had started the framework for the Death Star without Ned, due to his friend having to push the time a little later.

 

Peter was alone with his thoughts, and it was slightly horrifying at the moment.

 

Ever since what had happened in the penthouse, Peter hadn’t thought about being Spider-Man for a moment. He hadn’t bothered to go out, afraid he would head over to where Tony is, or in fear of the man seeing him. His suit laid in the little compartment above his room, sitting there, most likely collecting dust in the small space.

 

His hands started to burn from all the pressing together of pieces. His head hurt from thinking about what he was going to do with the situation with Mr. Stark. His chest hurt from the straight up rejection. Everything just…hurt. Peter didn’t know how to handle it.

 

What did Mr. Stark even have to say? ‘Yeah sorry kid, I was busy looking at your ass when you were in my apartment, it was a mistake, I never want to see or work with you again.’ That sounded about right to Peter.

 

Even if he did mean to do it, what was the point to go after such a famous man, let alone so rich and could get anyone he wanted?

 

Peter sighed and slumped down on the floor, feeling one of the Lego pieces digging into his right shoulder blade. At this point, he didn’t care how anything felt. He just needed to talk to Mr. Stark. Sure, he was nervous, but it was a much-needed conversation that needed to be done. There was no other option for Peter, he wanted to make it clear that he was sorry and that he did not want to ruin the relationship that they had already; bonding over science in their lives, along with technology and helping the world be a better place.

 

He didn’t want to lose the only mentor he had in a very long time, and he did not want to lose his crush in the process either. Even if they did eventually talk, Peter had no idea how to convey these emotions he was feeling.

 

Peter concluded just then, that he is way over his head.

 

Just then, Peter heard his phone go off on his desk, vibrating on the wood. He jumped up, almost stepping on the whole pile of Legos, to pick up his phone and see who had texted him. He felt adrenaline pump through his veins when he had saw that name ‘Tony Stark’ flashed across the screen.

 

_Kid, come to the penthouse. Let’s talk this out. Happy will drive you here in 10 minutes._

-

 

Tony held the glass of brandy like it was his one and only lifeline; close to his chest and in a tight grip, while he looked through the huge glass windows out to the skyline. The windows took the entire wall side of the living room, perfectly polished and could almost be see through if he did not know better. He nearly felt weightless looking outside of them, due to how high it was and how much he could see out of it.

 

“Boss, Mr. Hogan and Mr. Parker have arrived.”

 

Tony nearly choked at what FRIDAY told him, not prepared for the following events.

 

He had requested Happy to be there within the apartment, so Tony couldn’t do anything too stupid without remembering that there is another person within the walls of the penthouse. Happy hadn’t questioned the context, he just nodded and listened to his commands. However, when he heard the keys being turned into the front door lock, Tony suddenly realized that he was not drunk enough for this. He is too sober to deal with an attractive young and who not even four days ago was begging for tony to do something to him, to touch him-

 

The front door opened fully, and Tony turned around to see Peter wide eyed at him, knowing what the whole thing was about.

 

“I'll be in the guest space.” Happy said, throwing the car keys on the small table they had set near the door. The air was suddenly too stale, the cold glass in his hands was too cold and not cold enough all in the same, and Peter was way too attractive right at that moment for Tony not to notice the way his jacket sagged, or the way that his jeans hugged his hips.

 

“Mr. Stark-”

 

“No. I start.”

 

Peter immediately shut his mouth, and stepped away from the doorway and into the huge living room space. He had noticed the new piano, that somehow made it up so many floors and into the penthouse, all the computer screens that floated in the air, the new TV mounted. Tony could assume that Peter was thinking about all the new tech, and how much had changed since he had made a pretty dramatic exit.

 

That’s what this whole thing was; dramatic.

 

“So, look kid, we need to agree to be completely honest with each other.” Tony started off, and the kid nodded, eager to get the conversation going. “Okay, good.” He breathed out, took a sip of his drink, and continued.

 

“I need you to understand something. Can you do that for me?” Another nod from the boy standing across from him. “Good. You, are a child. Sixteen years old. And I…well, I am old enough to be your father, even spare a couple of years. That is the truth.”

 

They seemed to be on good track so far, because Peter nodded again, looking down onto the floor like he had broken the rules and now he was facing his punishment.

 

“Another truth, was that when you were helping me move, yes, I did look at you while you were bending over. It was a simple glance; harmless even. I need you to get that.”

 

Another nod. Peter looked up at him just in time to see Tony take another drink before holding his hand up, signaling that he was not yet finished.

 

“After Pepper left me, and no I will not go into detail about it, I have been lonely. That is the simple fact.” A pause. “I cannot explain my behavior.”

 

Peter stood staring at him, and Tony nodded at him, allowing the kid to speak.

 

“Mr. Stark, I just…I like you. Or, as I should say, I admire you, a lot…obviously…and I just don’t want to ruin our friendship with what happened.”

 

Tony wasn’t too surprised on what the kid said, however, he stepped closer, wanting Peter to continue his thoughts. He instead went red, completely, and stood still, watching Tony set his drink down. They were within arms-length. Tony decided to speak first.

 

“You won’t ruin anything, kid.”

 

His voice was significantly lower, stepping ultimately closer and into Peter’s personal space. His nerves were on fire as he got within a foot of Peter’s body, placing his hands on the boy’s arms, pulling him in. Instinctually, Peter’s hands flew up to rest on Tony’s shoulders and around his neck, and his own hands went on the kid’s waist. Tony cringed when his own face slid in between Peter’s neck and shoulder.

 

“Mr. Stark,” Tony groaned at his name, smelling Peter’s cologne and pressing their bodies closer, his dick in his pants twitching with interest. “please, do something.” Peter finished, his breathing speeding up under the other man’s touch.

 

 

Tony, not using his mind to think in that moment, stuck his tongue out and laid it flat against Peter’s neck, tempted to suck the skin that he was tasting into his mouth. It didn’t have a specific taste, however the texture against his mouth made Tony groan again, and Peter let out a little yelp as he tightened his grip on the older man, running his hands through his hair.

 

Tony was in pure amazement, and if that wasn’t an understatement, he didn’t know amazing anymore; and he was only licking the kid’s neck, not even doing all the things he had in his mind.

 

He suddenly realized what he was doing and made a move to pull away, cringing at his own actions, however, Peter tightened his hands impossibly more, keeping Tony’s head right in the junction of his collarbone.

 

“Peter…”

 

“Kiss me, Mr. Stark.”

 

And then, Tony hesitated.

 

He pulled back and looked down at Peter, and _those eyes_ , they were looking right up back at him, silently begging for Tony to do something. His heart was racing in his own ears, and he could feel Peter’s heartbeat dancing under his fingertips, making Tony want to run his hands all over the boy’s body all at once.

 

He leaned forward, almost letting their lips touch, but stopped right before doing so. Peter exhaled as Tony took his hands and held his neck in one hand, his hip in the other, feeling small within his grasp.

 

Tony was about ready to cry when Peter ended up closing the distance, his dry lips connecting with wet ones. He was sure Peter could taste the brandy left over on his lips.

 

For a minute, Tony didn’t see the fuss of all this. It was just a simple mouth-on-mouth press, and nothing special. But then, when he started to move his lips against Peter’s, his whole world changed right then and there.

 

It was almost like a switch that had been off his whole life had suddenly turned on. His loving lips against Peter’s made him realize that it was so wrong, and he couldn’t bother to stop. Tony never wanted to stop. As he licked past Peter’s lips, he pulled their bodies flush against each other, Peter gasping and Tony taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into Peter’s mouth.

 

He realized what he was doing, and Tony suddenly jumped back, almost tripping against the small table in front of the couch.

 

Peter looked like a red, blushing mess. His hair was messed up completely (when had Tony done that?), and his breathing was making him pant into the air.

 

“Happy?” Tony called, foxing Peter’s hair for him and straightening himself out before stepping back and grabbing his drink before his employee rounded the corner.

 

“Could you go back to work upstate? I need to get started on some projects and I need some stuff to get set up before I head back.” Peter was surprised, he could tell that much, however Happy wasn’t and walked out the front door immediately.

 

Most likely going to regret this decision later, he sat on the couch nearby and patted his lap, looking over at a dumbfounded Peter.

 

“Well? Come here.”


	5. The Never-ending Growth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to be able to write for a bit unfortunately, just about a week. Please don't lose interest in this story! It will be updated regularly! I am just leaving town for a bit.

* * *

_"And in the topsoil, an iris bloomed_

_It was pretty in May,_

_But it died in June"_

* * *

 

 

Peter moaned, deep and loud into Tony’s mouth, and he felt him smile against his own lips.

 

He was making out with Tony freaking Stark. And Peter was loving every second of it.

 

He truly had never thought he could feel this high without drugs to help him, and considering that he had never even tried drugs, this was an all-new experience. Tony’s beard scratched around his lips, his big hands held his hips down and his hair was in between Peter’s fingertips, and he had never expected to love it all so much.

 

Currently, Peter was in Tony’s lap, grinding down his hips to meet the other man, tongues in each other’s throats. Tony moaned every now and again, however Peter was the incredibly sensitive one, his skin on fire everywhere Mr. Stark touched. This had never happened to him before, and it all felt like too much, and the longer it went on, the more eager that Peter seemed to find himself getting.

 

Tony broke the kiss to move to Peter’s cheek, licking small strips of skin to his jawline and neck. Peter closed his eyes and faced his head towards the ceiling, letting out small gasps as Tony kissed his neck. They were both still fully clothed, which Peter didn’t know what to think of, but when Mr. Stark tugged at the bottom of his shirt, he fully took it off for the other man. Then, as Tony kissed the skin of his chest, Peter had an idea.

 

“Let me drink some of…whatever you were drinking.” Peter glanced at the glass that was half full, sitting with the ice melting within the glass.

 

“That’s brandy, sweetheart,” More kisses along his sternum. “you’re not old enough for that yet.” Tony didn’t stop what he was doing while Peter talked to him.

 

“When we were kissing,” a slight gasp from Peter, “I could taste it in your mouth. I liked it.”

 

Tony stopped all of a sudden, making Peter shiver and while at the lack of touch. “Kid, no. You’re too young.”

 

“If I’m so young, then why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me if you see me as so young?”

 

That seemed to stop everything completely. Tony let Peter go, taking his hands carefully on him, almost as if he was afraid to hurt him. Peter frowned, looking into Tony’s eyes, seeing the regret within them.

 

“Tony…”

 

“Kid, that’s enough for one day, yeah?”

 

Peter’s heart sunk into his stomach, his posture physically relaxing and leaning back against Tony’s arms on his sides. He was dumb enough to believe that Tony _wanted_ this, that he wanted to kiss him, that it was enjoyable enough to do for himself.

 

Tony brought Peter in closer to his chest, sighing into the action, Tony reached up and ran his hand through the boy’s hair. For a minute, Peter thought everything was going to be alright. Like he had not been rejected from the richest man he knew, like there could have _been_ something, like Tony had _felt_ something-

 

“Look…we need to process this. This isn’t rational or good for either of us to handle in one day…can you understand this for me?”

 

Tony’s voice was smooth in his ear, sort of like a smooth butter or a creamy ice cream. Peter didn’t move or respond, he laid on top of Tony, shirtless and ready to cry. He understood what was being asked of him. They were to stop, for a little while at least, and think about how wrong this was. Maybe Tony was trying to steer Peter away, distracting him from Tony, forcing him away so that they would forget about this and pretend it never happened. What was the point of all of this, anyway?

 

Peter backed up and off Mr. Stark, picking up his shirt from the side somewhere and putting it on. His thoughts were all over the place, mostly within the realm of ‘this will never happen again’ and ‘I am an idiot for thinking this was real’.

 

His real mistake, was looking back at Tony when he had fit his head through the shirt hole. Instantly, he knew that Tony regretted his actions, and that he _was_ trying to push Peter away. What was he supposed to do? Convince the older man that was okay? Even Peter knew that this wasn’t, and he refused to lie. So, instead, he spoke in a dull tone, explicitly showing what he was feeling.

 

“Okay, Mr. Stark. I get it.” Peter walked away from the couch to the front door, leaving Tony sitting down and baffled. Peter heard him stand up, shuffle around, and eventually grab Peter’s shoulder, trying to get the kid to stop walking away from him. They locked eyes when Tony turned him around, and the world seemed to stop suddenly for the two.

 

They didn’t say anything, but Peter knew that the eyes of Tony were silently saying ‘stay with me’. Peter ripped his shoulder out of his grip instead, and shoved his feet into his shoes to get out.

 

“Kid, you have no ride home-”

 

“I'll find a fucking cab!”

 

Peter slammed the front door to the penthouse behind him, hard enough to rattle the walls. He didn’t bother to look back at Tony, and even if he did look back, he wouldn’t be able to see through the tears in his eyes. Besides, why would he look back at a man who didn’t want him?

 

-

 

Tony wanted him.

 

Tony watched Peter walk away, his chest feeling like it was going to explode with the pain that he had felt in it. He shouldn’t have stopped; he didn’t even want to stop. But he had to, for Peter’s sake, because he was a child. A child who didn’t even know what he wanted, or what his priorities were at all. He even asked him for a _drink_ , the kid couldn’t handle something like…what were they, exactly?

 

Tony stood there for quite some time before realizing it had gotten dark around him, but he was trying his best to think of what he felt, or even what they were.

 

Tony had never thought these things before looking at Peter in…that way. He had only saw him as a child…as a son. Why would this all suddenly change?

 

And why, even though Tony knew how wrong it was, did he want it so badly? It was just, too much. Of course it would be too much for the kid, he couldn’t even handle it well himself.

 

He was getting too old to have flings, and after Pepper, people were expecting him to settle down, and in no way, was he about to do that with a sixteen-year-old who can barely handle a pop quiz in math.

 

What baffled him the most, was that Peter thought he could handle it. They had only met, what, less than a year ago? Peter hardly knew his history of mental illness, so why should Tony even bother telling him?

 

He finally moved to the main living room and picked up his glass of brandy, before it effortlessly fell to the ground. Staring at the floor, Tony felt the condensation on his hands; the reason for the glass slipping so easily. And suddenly, Tony made the decision to not care. Not care what people thought, to not care about the broken glass, to just…not care.

 

Did that mean he wouldn’t care about his life, either?

 

-

 

Peter really, really hated his life right now.

 

Oh, yeah, sure, let’s just throw our body on top of the man that he liked, hoping that Tony freaking Stark would catch him and realize his long-lost love for him.

 

That just wasn’t the case.

 

Peter was sitting at a coffee shop somewhere he had stopped on the way home, not bothering to remember the name as he held a steaming cup in his hands. He paid for the cab a while ago, and decided to just sit and think of his options. When the barista let him know that he needed to buy something to spend so much time in a booth at the local coffee shop, he just ordered a small hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows in the top. It was too hot for the drink, but what did he care.

 

The sun was out, and the streets were radiating the heat. Peter didn’t mind it too much, however what he did mind, was the fact that he most likely never going to see his mentor again.

 

He kept thinking, how could be this stupid? Poor Peter Parker, his crush who is almost _fifty years old_ , doesn’t want him back. He looked down at his mug in frustration, somehow believing that if he glared at it long enough, it could magically solve his issue.

 

Peter, after sitting for a little longer, realized two things.

 

One, he was late for dinner. Two, he was way too involved and way too overdramatic over this.

 

That’s what this whole thing was; dramatic.

 

Peter needed something other than being Spider-Man. That was his secret, so does he really require another one? Peter realized that he wasn’t even legal, so what would happen if they had gotten caught? Tony would be going to jail, and Peter would never see him again. What was he going to do then?

 

The whole situation made his head hurt, so he took another sip of his hot chocolate and looked through the window at all the people walking by. The kids holding their parents made him smile, and the lonely people who walked alone with their earbuds in made him thoughtful about what he was feeling.

 

But the couples, they made him feel lonelier than he had ever felt. Peter had no idea why he had to fall for the richest boy in town, let alone get the chance to make out with him, grind against him, get invited to his private penthouse…

 

Peter had done enough thinking about the billionaire.

 

He finished his hot chocolate and started to talk home in the setting sun, the heat strong on his neck and in his long jeans. The sweat on his brow returned, and he soon made it home with just enough time to spare that he could explain why he was late for dinner.

 

He didn’t bother to mention Tony Stark.


	6. The Bitter Taste Of Water

* * *

" _Do you really wanna read my mind?_  
  
_I promise all_  
  
_That you will find_  
  
_Is a lost soul_  
  
_Rich and blind."_

* * *

The kid was back to patrolling through Queens again.  
  
  
Tony was upstate, ironically. After setting up the last few things in the penthouse, he decided he didn't need to see the couch that he made out with Peter on, and the windows facing the city that the kid was flying through.  
  
  
The leather chair that Tony was sitting in welcomed him home, and when he turned on the TV to find Peter flying through the air once again, he smiled. He hadn't seen the kid go out since when he helped Tony move into the penthouse.  
  
  
That was about a week ago.  
  
  
Tony had never been so relieved to pull up the Baby Monitor Protocol and actually see _live footage_. It meant Peter was okay, that he was beginning to be himself again.  
  
  
He cringed at the idea that _he_ was the one changing Peter, and not the other way around.  
  
  
Thankfully, the vitals on the display along with the suit scanner confirmed that since before Tony tuned into the feed, Peter was okay and he was not hurt. _At least he's not being reckless_ , Tony thought. _Totally different than how I would have reacted to the same situation._  
  
  
Currently, Peter was swinging around some all-glass buildings somewhere, flying above bystanders that he was sure looking at him from all the way down at the ground. Through all the times that Tony had sat through the patrols, Peter had not been bothered by the spectators. If anything, the kid slightly enjoyed it.  
  
  
"FRIDAY, show his vitals again."  
  
  
"Sir, this is your fifth time asking-"  
  
  
"Fri, show me the vitals!" Tony snapped at the AI, clenching his fists and looking at the screen again.  
  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
  
FRIDAY seemed unphased at the outburst, but suggested that Tony take a little time to rest. He admits, he hasn't been sleeping as well like he used to; afraid that if he stayed under too long, he would dream about the one boy who hasn't left his mind for days. Sleeping was overrated, and dreaming about Peter was Tony's worst nightmare at the moment.  
  
  
Instead of following the advice that FRIDAY had said to him, Tony waved the AI off and continued to monitor Peter.  
  
  
This had been happening for about three hours, but what the hell, Tony didn't bother to keep track. He was busy thinking and worrying about someone else, so why would he worry about himself?  
  
  
It was one of his many faults. He cared too much about the wrong people. When Pepper was around, he didn't care enough about their relationship (her words), and cared too much about his work. About himself. And now, he didn't care _enough_ about his work, but cared way too much about Peter.  
  
  
See? Inappropriate.  
  
  
Peter suddenly stopped on top of a very high building, staring at the setting sun in the distance. He heard the kid talk, and just then, Tony had never felt such happiness when he heard his voice.  
  
  
"Hey, uh, Karen?"  
  
  
The AI responded in it's usual sweet voice.  
  
  
"Can you, like, talk to FRIDAY?"  
  
  
Tony paused, looking at the footage, and bringing his hand up to his chin to think. _Can_ Karen even talk to his AI? Even Tony didn't know.  
  
  
"I'm not sure, Peter. Would you like me to try?" The AI asked, already running codes and protocol for the action.  
  
  
"What? N-no, Karen, don't contact FRIDAY. I'm just wondering." Peter sighed. Tony could tell that Peter didn't want to be a bother.  
  
  
"Do you wish to contact Mr. Stark?"  
  
  
The AI's question stayed in the air for a while. Tony didn't know what to do while Peter thought of a response. In his head, he was screaming _NO, DON'T CONTACT ME_ , but deep down, he knew that he needed someone to talk to down in the basement upstate. However, Tony didn't need to talk to the kid who he took advantage of.  
  
  
Tony swore in his head, and hovered his hand over the red button that allowed him to talk to Peter through the suit. However, before pressing it, he heard the kid sigh and put his head in his hands.  
  
  
"I don't know anymore, Karen."  
  
  
The AI didn't say anything just then, and Tony mentally said _fuck it_ and pressed the button anyway.  
  
  
"Kid?"  
  
  
Peter almost fell off of where he was sitting, his heart rate spiking and his breathing increased. Tony slightly smiled, and sat in one of the wheely chairs that were nearby the panel with the com-link.  
  
  
"M-Mr. Stark?" Peter asked questionably, voice high and shrill. Tony almost laughed at the gesture.  
  
  
He realized, he had nothing to talk about. He knew he had to explain himself to Peter that he was watching all of his outings, that now he was just watching the kid to feel closer to him. And what else were they supposed to say? They had made out, of course, and they both wanted more, however Tony couldn't bare with the repercussions that included _dating a freaking teenager_.  
  
  
"Yeah, it's me. There's a device in your suit that connects to my lab to allow me to talk to you." Tony shifted in his chair, waiting for the kid to respond. There was quiet for a while, before eventually Peter decided to speak.  
  
  
"Have you been, watching me?"  
  
  
And just like that, Tony's heart seemed to break.  
  
  
The voice that Peter used was small, high, almost as if he had surrendered himself to the situation entirely. Tony could feel the disappointment rising in his throat, threatening to come out in the form of a sob. He had realized what he had been doing for what was a couple months now. He had spied on the kid, taken away his privacy, and hopelessly made him feel more like the kid that he was, which Tony knew that he hates more than every considering their...predicament.  
  
  
"Peter..."  
  
  
"No, Mr. Stark, you don't have to explain. You just wanted to keep me safe, right?" He asked instead, looking back at the sky. The sun was setting from what Tony could see through Peter's eyes on the screen; and due to the lab being underground, he couldn't tell what the weather outside was. Instead, he saw the beautiful orange and red colors mixing above Peter, and could almost imagine what Peter could be feeling at that moment of pure bliss.  
  
  
That didn't last long.  
  
  
"I _was_ trying to keep you safe, Peter. I just...I didn't mean it to get this out of hand."  
  
  
The quietness lasted for quite a while after that, Peter's vitals slowing down to a normal rate and Tony relaxing into his chair. At some point (Tony couldn't remember when), Peter was staring right back at the sunset directly, over the Queens skyline.  
  
  
"Mr. Stark?"  
  
  
"Still here, kid." Tony responded, swirling his drink in his right hand. It was whiskey this time, rather than the brandy at the Penthouse. The ice made _clink_ sounds at the side of the glass, and Tony slightly smiled at the sound.  
  
  
"Are you watching the sun?" Peter asked, leaning back slightly, as the sun finally disappeared over the horizon.  
  
  
"Yeah, Peter."  
  
  
"Good. I feel less alone, Tony."  
  
  
                                          -  
  
  
"Peter Benjamin Parker!"  
  
  
He had just laid down on his bed, thinking that May wouldn't notice him sneaking into his room, taking off his suit and flopping right down on his (seemingly) comfortable spring bed, ready to at least try and sleep.  
  
  
That plan worked way better in his head.  
  
  
"You are late for dinner, young man!" She stormed in to Peter's room, hearing the wooden, rickety door hit the wall on the opposite side of the flimsy doorframe. "This is twice in a row, Peter! You cannot be doing this- this Spider-Man business forever and not have time to be with your aunt!"  
  
  
"May-"  
  
  
"Don't do that! Don't say my name to negotiate! We agreed on one thing, _one thing_ , Peter. You would be home before dinner from your...escapades in your stupid Stark-suit!"  
  
  
Peter sighed, moving his head to look at his aunt.  
  
  
"I told you not to call it that..."  
  
  
"If that's the thing that's keeping you away from home," May pointed at the suit on the floor, "then I can call it what I damn well please! Peter you have to understand that I love you and I worry about you, so you cannot keep doing this."  
  
  
May kept yelling for a while after that. Peter hardly played attention, until she brought Tony into the mix once more.  
  
  
"It's all that Tony's fault, he's dragging you into all that Avengers crap, I even _told_ him-"  
  
  
Peter groaned loudly, and sat up to finally gave his aunt. He was ready to yell at her, ready to defend his...whatever Tony was, however, he stopped right away when he saw the tears streaming down his aunt's face.  
  
  
"May..."  
  
  
"Peter, just promise me something." May didn't really have a tone of words, but he knew that she meant serious business.  
  
  
"Promise me...that you aren't  _too_ involved with Tony Stark...please."  
  
  
Peter didn't say anything at first. How could he? Lie to his aunt and break her heart, or protect his secret of what happened with him and Tony? Peter didn't even know what to do in a situation like this. He could explode, out this entire situation to his aunt, and risk Tony being thrown in jail for what he did, because it was a _crime_. He could mash it all down, roll with it, and eventually break down from all the secrets and hiding.  
  
  
Or, the last thing he wanted to do, was end the whole relationship outright.  
  
  
"Oh my God," May almost whispered, putting her hands up to her face. "You're involved with him."  
  
  
"No, May, I promise I'm not..." Peter tried to defend himself, sitting up straighter and watching May step slightly farther away.  
  
  
"Then look me in the eye and say you're not!" His aunt was getting antsy, switching from leg to leg in her posture and crossing her arms together.  
  
"I'm not _involved_ with Mr. Stark. It's professional only, May."  
  
  
Peter didn't say anything more as she stood there, staring at him, most likely not convinced at his statement, and eventually walking out.  
  
  
Peter threw himself back down on the bed, sighing into the pillow and mentally kicking himself over and over before he soon had a headache. It roared inside his brain, picking and prodding at his most sensitive parts.  
  
  
He was pretty sure that May went to bed, from the clues that he saw the apartment was dark besides his room and there weren't noises in the other rooms.  
  
  
Rolling over and feeling pain in his back, Peter gazed up at the ceiling and hoped that something would happen. Opportunity knocks, right?  
  
  
However, he then thought; _opportunity knocks, but only if you make a door for it._  
  
  
Sitting up almost painfully fast, his vision zeroing in on his resting phone on the charger on top of his desk. It was almost peaceful, the way it sat there unmoving.  
  
  
He pulled up the contact of Tony Stark, and typed out a quick message.  
  
  
"Hey, Mr. Stark? Are you still upstate?"  
  
  
Peter sat at his desk chair, stretching his back and putting his phone back on the desk, waiting for a response and waiting for the device to vibrate against the wood.  
  
  
Almost immediately, a response came in.  
  
  
_"Yes, kid, I am. It's almost ten at night, shouldn't you be in bed?"_  
  
  
Peter almost had the nerve to smile.  
  
  
"That doesn't matter. How long would it take you to drive down to the penthouse at this time of night?"  
  
  
He bit his lip. Sending risky texts was never his thing. He preferred to know something outright, not wait. However, this entire relationship was waiting, running from feelings, and hating what they were doing, however, not bothering to stop.  
  
  
When the responding text came in, he smiled bigger than ever.  
  
  
_"It'll take me about an hour and a half. I'll tell FRIDAY to let you in when you arrive."_

 


	7. The Plant, Drowning in Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meantions of rape. This chapter is basically smut so...skip if you want???

* * *

_"Ain't nothing_

_Like the feeling of uncertainty._  
  
_The eeriness of silence."_

* * *

 

 

Tony's hands were white on the steering wheel, driving at about 80 miles an hour on the freeway at night, the "EB" symbol of the Bugatti flashing into his eyes occasionally as he stared at the road ahead. 

  
  
He didn't know what to expect for tonight. All he knew was that he _needed_ to see Peter, _needed_ to talk to him. Tony told himself that he would refrain from being too much in one night, too much in one place and time. This whole situation was moving awfully fast, just like the wheels of the super car rolling across the smooth pavement. The thing was, Tony thought that the situation couldn't move _fast enough._  
  
  
The constant thinking, waiting, questioning and going over the same words over and over for _hours on end_ really made Tony feel crazy; all for the right reasons. How else was he supposed to feel? Guilty?  
  
  
Even worse, _afraid_?  
  
  
Tony didnt even bother to look remember where he parked, it was already a recognizable car in itself; the Bugatti Veyron a gleaming bright blue with the same color accents on the black leather interior. Also along those same lines, he was sure that FRIDAY could tell him where he had parked anyway, having the AI installed in almost all the cars that he had acquired over the years.  
  
  
Walking up to the apartment wasn't as dreadful as Tony had expected it to be; he had anticipated the guilt climbing every step that he took, or every floor that the elevator passed. It wasn't some big ordeal in reality, but Tony noticed when he finally got into his apartment, he was beyond nervous for what was about to happen.  
  
  
What were they even going to do? Sit there and talk it out? Absolutely not. Tony knew the kid would try something. It could go way farther than a kiss.  
  
  
What else was he going to do? Refuse to the kid, break his heart and never see him again?  
  
  
Yes. That is exactly what he should do.  
  
  
And yet, Tony never even gave it a second thought.  
  
  
Going straight into the room where he held the booze, Tony snagged a random bottle out from some shelf that he didn't pay too much attention to and grabbed a chilled glass out from the mini fridge filled with similar glasses. Pouring the drink as fast as he could without spilling it, he brought it up to his lips and almost choked by how strong the drink was.  
  
  
He wasn't drunk enough for this.  
  
  
About fifteen minutes later, he had still not finished the glass. He texted Peter a while ago, letting him know to just walk into the apartment.  
  
  
Tony had accidentally migrated to the bedroom, and he swore when he heard the door opened.  
  
  
"Mr. Stark?" He hears the kid call out, the obvious nervousness showing like a blinding light in the dark.  
  
  
"In here."  
  
  
Tony set his drink down on the nightstand and took off his suit overcoat, untying his tie, and setting them down on the leather ottoman next to the queen size bed. Undoing the first couple buttons on his bleach whitd shirt, Tony pulled the bottom of the cotton shirt out of his pants. He considered taking off his belt, but he heard a cough before he could do so.  
  
  
Peter stood rigid in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes wide. Tony could tell that Peter had seen the entire undressing and tried to keep quiet.  
  
  
"Hey, Peter." Tony smiled and put his hands off of his hips and on to his side, looking back at the kid.  
  
  
The lights from the city filled into the dark apartment, making it an almost beautiful golden hue against Peter's face. Tony didn't bother to turn the lights on, for reasons unknown, but he saw the other boy perfectly in the dim light. Peter didn't seem to outright speak about the lighting situation. The bedroom was huge; Peter looked so small within the doorway. Tony couldn't stop staring.  
  
  
Of course, neither could Peter.  
  
  
They stood still before Peter walked foreword towards him, slow and calculated. Tony's breath hitched when Peter got closer than they should get, almost as if he didn't care about boundaries.  
  
  
Instead, the kid reached forward and twisted his fingers in the button up white shirt, picking at the tiny white buttons that held Tony's shirt together.  
  
  
Peter glanced up at Tony, almost with pleading eyes as he played with the first button.  
  
  
Tony just nodded and looked to the side as the kid's shaking hands slowly took the older man's shirt off.  
  
  
Peter tugged at the clothing when all of the buttons were undone, and Tony shrugged it off to the floor, and when he heard the fabric hit the carpet, Peter jumped at the opportunity to get his hands on him.  
  
  
At first, Tony wasn't ready for Peter's hands right on his pecks, but he quickly adjusted to the warmth on his chest when the kid started to move his hands all across the skin presented before him.  
  
  
"Peter..." Tony sighed, leaning his head against the kid's hair, smelling the faint Axe shampoo. Of course he would use that brand, Peter was only 16.  
  
  
That snapped in Tony's mind, and instead of jerking away from Peter's touch, he laid his hands on the other's hips, rubbing circles into the exposed flesh of Peter's midriff. The fact that he was 16 made Tony speak out loud.  
  
  
"Have you ever done anything like this before?" He managed to breathe out, and Peter stepped backwards and out of Tony's reach. He almost whined at the loss of contact that he now missed, and then before Tony knew it, Peter was taking off his long sleeve grey shirt and tossing it aside.  
  
  
"No, I haven't." He walked towards Tony again, pulling him close and making their chests touch in a hug. Tony sighed and put his arms around Peter's small frame, before the boy spoke again, but in his ear this time.  
  
  
"I want you to teach me."  
  
  
And at that, Tony _completely_ froze.  
  
  
Teach him _what_? He knew what the kid was talking about instantly. This was what he thought about since he first thought of Peter in a different way, Tony knew that. He knew that it was wrong as well. To take a 16 year old's _virginity_ , and like it? He had to say no. Tony _had_ to.  
  
  
But instead, he slowly cupped Peter's cheek and guided him out of the hug, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.  
  
  
It was a forgotten memory of the first kiss that they had shared earlier, when Peter didn't even know what he was doing. The kiss wouldn't have been able to count as one at the present moment due to no movement happening, it was purely the unmoving press of lips to lips. Tony felt that if he moved, he would break the kid in half. Not because of his strength, but because Peter felt fragile in his hands due to the kid's nervousness and shyness.  
  
  
Peter surprised him when he started moving, in multiple aspects. He started to very slowly move his lips against Tony's, slow but sure. The younger sighed into his lips and moved his body against him, making Tony intrested into what Peter had in mind.  
  
  
Just when Tony began to slowly slide his tongue into the kid's mouth, Peter began to push Tony towards the huge bed to the side, but instead the older man stopped.  
  
  
"Peter, where are you taking this?" He asked, needing to know what he had in mind. Peter had stood across from him, heavy breathing and almost shaking at the minimal contact that the two men had shared.  
  
  
"Mr. Stark-"  
  
  
Tony scoffed and cut him off sharply.  
  
  
"Kid, if I'm going to fuck you, do not call me that. I do not have a daddy kink or whatever variations that is. Tony is fine."  
  
  
Peter took this as food for thought and responded with just as much fire.  
  
  
"Then stop calling me 'kid', _Mr. Stark._ " Tony glared at Peter, rolling his eyes.  
  
  
"If this is going to work, you need to listen to me more." Tony walked forward again and slowly guided Peter to the bed, letting him fall back into the soft mattress, and then getting on top of him.  
  
  
"I know, Tony."  
  
  
Tony's knees almost gave out under him. He was so _innocent_. And he was about to take away the only thing that Peter had left that decently mattered in society. No parents, no uncle, hardly an outside life outside of school due to being Spider-Man, no big group of friends.  
  
  
Then, Tony realized that the only thing Peter had left was his want, no, his _need_ for Tony Stark.  
  
  
And in that moment, he let go.  
  
  
Before he knew it, he was kissing the boy under him with so much passion he felt the _hurt_ in his chest. Peter moaned, a sweet and innocent one, and Tony wished he could loathe that sound.  
  
  
He sickly enjoyed it instead.  
  
  
The grinding of their still clothed pants hurt Tony on a physical level, and he broke the kiss to sit up straight. Peter sat up as well, following in Tony's actions, but the older man stopped him, pushing him down on his back. Peter had a questionable look on his face, and Tony reassured him when he started to unbuckle his belt.  
  
  
He tossed it to the floor, making a loud noise when the metal hit the carpet. Peter stared at it for a moment, finally realizing what he had signed up for.  
  
  
"You alright?" Tony asked, shrugging his suit pants off until he was just in his underwear. Peter just nodded, reaching for his own pants, but Tony stopped him and grabbed the button of his pants for him, surprising the younger one.  
  
  
"Let me do everything. I'll try my best to keep you comfortable." Tony didn't know where that came from, or why even, but it seemed to be the right thing to say, for Peter visibly relaxed and let him take the lead.  
  
  
After undoing the button and pulling down the zipper, Tony pulled the jeans off along with Peter's underwear, leaving him completely exposed for Tony to look at. His erection was painfully obvious, and Tony took the time to size it up before he eventually started kissing at Peter's chest, slowly working his way down the other's body. It made Peter shake and moan under him, the pale skin seemingly on fire the lower he went down.  
  
  
He kissed the very back of Peter's head and the kid lifted his hips in a jerking motion. Tony grabbed the kid's hips to hold him down and make eye contact, glaring at Peter to stay still.  
  
  
"Can you reach into the drawer on your left?" Tony asked, watching Peter do so. The kid had to move his entire body, and eventually got the drawer open and pulled out condoms and lube. He dropped the items on the bed, baking a soft thud with the bottle that had hardly been used.  
  
  
"I'm going to prep you, so I'm going to suck you off at the same time to distract you from the pain, alright?" Tony explained, reaching for the bottle of lube.  
  
  
He saw Peter blush, all the way down his neck, and Tony made his way to the boy's face and slowly caressed his face.  
  
  
"You're cute when you blush."  
  
  
Peter got a darker shade of red, and smiled awkwardly as Tony kissed him once more. Quick and chaste, almost as if it was a little promise.  
  
  
Tony was face to face with Peter's crotch again, and looked up at him before licking a long strip under Peter's dick, causing him to tense up under the sudden contact.  
  
  
"Hey, relax." Tony started simply, running his hands on Peter's thighs.  
  
  
He sucked Peter's head into his mouth, hearing a soft moan from the kid. Tony took more of him in his mouth, slowly inching his way down Peter's dick. The stiff hardness in his mouth only seemed to grow harder as he made his way down, and he knew that Peter was sensitive so he tried his best to not go too fast or hard.  
  
  
Tony cared, and he found himself caring more than he should.  
  
  
He sucked in what was in his mouth and Peter gasped, and when Tony looked up to get a glance at him, and he had truly never seen such a beautiful thing.  
  
  
Peter's hands were curled into the white linen, his knuckles almost white from gripping them so hard. His eyes were closed and his head was slightly tilted towards the ceiling, his mouth slightly open from the gasp.  
  
  
Tony tried so hard to only focus on what he was doing with his mouth from that point.  
  
  
He could tell that Peter was getting close, so instead he stopped for a moment to lube up his first finger to the second knuckle. Peter glanced up to see what was happening, and then Tony made eye contact with him, and suddenly, the whole thing became too real.  
  
  
"Peter, tell me to stop and I will. Please tell me to stop." Tony stared at the body before him, seemingly perfect in the low light of the apartment. The lights outside in the Manhattan skyline illuminated Peter's body as well, leaving tiny shadows and bursts of light across his skin.  
  
  
"I don't want you to stop." Peter said this with such determination, he wanted to be proud of him; but he was asking for Tony to _fuck_ him, and what was he supposed to say to that? _I'm proud you're taking initiative in losing your virginity to a person who is supposed to teach you science and how to be a proper Avenger. Not to mention that he is three times your age._  
  
  
"Okay, okay. I'm going to start now." Tony could tell the kid was shaking, so to provide some relief, he took Peter's dick into his mouth again and continued to suck the way he was doing before to comfort him and himself.  
  
  
He gently placed his finger on Peter's hole, tight and tensed up, and started feeling around the hole, eating the lube on the skin around it.  
  
  
He didn't bother to pay attention to Peter's reaction when he started applying pressure, eventually getting his finger tip in. And holy shit, Tony thought he was going to faint.  
  
  
He's so hot inside, and so tight; Tony had made a great call by prepping him first.  
  
  
He heard Peter gasp and moan, and he pushed his finger in more, slowly until his first finger was in all the way. He bobbed his head a little, slowly sucking on Peter as he worked his finger inside him.  
  
  
"Ah...Tony-" another moan. "Please....I'm ready, I want...more." Peter struggled to get these words out as he was feeling Tony go in and out of him fast.  
  
  
"Kid, this is barely a finger, you're not ready for me to fuck you hard just yet." Peter made another noise that Tony couldn't describe.  
  
  
"Don't call me kid when you have a finger inside me." Peter gained composure, and started to grind down on the finger that Tony desperately wanted to replace.  
  
  
More lube, more fingers, more moaning from Peter. This continued on for some time, before Peter could take 3 fingers easily and _said_ that he had no pain. Tony couldn't decide if he believed him or not.  
  
  
When push comes to shove, this would be Tony's fault regardless.  
  
  
He slicked his fingers out and took the lube bottle once more, putting some on his hand and finally taking his underwear off of his straining erection. As he took some of the lube and spread it on his dick, he saw Peter staring at him.  
  
  
Tony gave a questioning look, but the kid just stared back with a fondness he could only describe as admiration.  
  
  
He took one of Peter's legs and positioned himself in between them, and watching the kid with calculated eyes.  
  
  
"You're sure?" Tony asked him, moving himself to align with Peter. He looked the kid in the eyes and leaned forward, a couple inches of space between their faces.  
  
  
"Yes, _please_ Tony-" his voice cracked slightly, closing his eyes and blushing at his actions and begging. That was all it took to make Tony reach forward to hold Peter's face, and push himself in.  
  
  
_Oh mother, please forgive me..._  
  
  
His first thought was how tight it felt. The second thought, was how hot Peter felt, just like on his fingers.  
  
  
It felt so, so terribly and sinfully good.  
  
  
What had Tony been missing all his life? The answer to that was simple, he hadn't had Peter. Sure, he had topped with guys before in some huge orgies back when Stark Tower was Stark Tower. But none of the men he had been with had never felt like this. Given, some of them had never been fucked in the ass before, but Peter-  
  
  
He had gotten all the way inside the kid, groaning into Peter's neck as he did so. He didn't hear anything from him, so Tony pulled back to look at Peter's face, which was contorted into a winced pain, his eyes closed shut.  
  
  
"It burns?" Tony asked, and Peter just nodded, struggling to move his head.  
  
  
"Can you, not move? Just yet?" Peter hesitantly asked, moving his hands to be laying on Tony's back. The older man nodded and started to kiss along Peter's jaw, making the kid relax more into his debatable gentle touch.  
  
  
Tony tried to keep himself as still as possible, tensing up all his muscles to keep him upright and kissing Peter's skin as softly he could.  
  
  
"You can move..." he heard the faint voice of the kid in his ear, and that gave him just enough motivation to pull back and thrust forward again.  
  
  
Tony felt beyond high. Having himself inside Peter took his breath away, it made his knees week and his heart pound at an alarming rate. Why would people do drugs when he can have _this_?  
  
  
Peter started moaning soon after a few more thrusts, and Tony had never heard such a beautiful sound.  
  
  
They rocked together for a while, just slowly exploring each other's bodies. Peter took his hands and felt all of the muscles in Tony's back, pressing down on all the think skin that had been built for decades.  
  
  
Tony on the other hand, was having a ball exploring the perfect and supple skin of his complete counter part.  
  
  
As he thrusted himself in and out slowly, his hands went across Peter's arms, his perfect chest and abs, his soft and barely hairy thighs. Peter was built, considering the only thing that had happened to him was the spider bite.  
  
  
"Peter-" Tony was cut off by a particularly strong thrust, making Peter roll his eyes under his eyelids in the pleasure. "Do you know how long you're going to last?"  
  
  
"No....ah!" Another hard thrust. Peter seemed to be okay with what Tony was doing, so instead of stopping, he went a tiny bit faster and just a little harder to please the kid. Peter glanced off to the side, seeing the unused condoms on the wrinkled bed sheets.  
  
  
"Tony...you forgot to put on a condom." He said, running his hands through his hair. Tony just scoffed.  
  
  
"I haven't had sex in months. You're a virgin and can't get pregnant. I think we're fine." Peter reached up and kissed the man inside him, and broke the kiss to lay back down on the bed to gasp loudly.  
  
  
"That's it..." Tony said lowly. "Tell me how you feel sweetheart."  
  
  
"Ngh...I never knew I would be doing this." Peter managed to rasp out, his voice strained and dry. He was obviously holding himself back to make himself last longer.  
  
  
"Peter, I know you're holding back..." Tony groaned into Peter's hair, feeling him tighten around his dick. "Let go. I promise it's okay."  
  
  
"I may never get to do this again." Peter said sadly, raising his hips up, trying to get Tony deeper inside of him.  
  
  
"Peter, this _will_ happen again. You have my word." Tony kissed Peter as passionately as he could to emphasize his point, and started kissing his neck towards Peter's ear.  
  
  
"Now, cum for me."  
  
  
Peter was beautiful. He really, really was. When he came, he moaned his lungs out, his whole body twitched and his skin seemed to be on fire. Tony loved every second of it, and as soon as he felt Peter's cum in between their stomachs, he felt his own orgasm come up and wash over him suddenly, and the next thing he saw was white.  
  
  
They both were panting, the cum on Peter's stomach still hot and wet.  
  
  
Peter looked up towards Tony and kissed him, and for once in his life, Tony did not predict that outcome.  
  
  
It was sweet, if anything. Almost as if Peter were thanking him for his actions.  
  
  
Leagally, he had raped Peter. So why would the kid be thanking him for that?  
  
  
And instantly, all the regret of what he just did set on his shoulders, weighing him down on top of a naked sixteen year old.

 


	8. Inch by Inch, Growing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo this took forever I'm so sorry

* * *

_"Heart-shaped kisses_

_I really miss my mistress"_

* * *

Peter hardly remembered most of it.  
  
  
When he had woken up the next morning, the soreness he felt on his bottom side wasn't as bad as he expected it to be, but he couldn't even think about school that day. It was a Friday anyway, so he begged Aunt May to just stay home while she went to work, and it had been a success when she had reluctantly agreed to it.  
  
  
That's how Peter found himself eating ice cream on his couch, some random music station playing in his headphones, all before eight that morning.  
  
  
He tried to remember most of what happened last night with Tony, but Peter only seemed go seriously remember glimpses; a hand on his thigh, fingers inside him, pain on his neck, Tony above him, rocking himself into Peter, a small kiss to his forehead, making out, then an exciteful orgasm before he eventually somehow finally made his way home.  
  
  
Peter was all numb to it now. It hasn't set in yet. _Were you supposed to feel different after you lost your virginity?_  
  
  
He knew that soon, he expected a call, or a text from Tony. What was he even going to say at that point? Before he left, Tony hadn't said a word. He drank the rest of whatever alcohol was on the nightstand, untouched, and passed out on the bed.  
  
  
Guiltily, Peter even snooped around the apartment.  
  
  
There wasn't much, he knew that much. The penthouse itself was pretty barren, not much personality to it yet. Peter enjoyed the aesthetic styles of homes, and the fact that this apartment barely had any pictures, colors outside of the boring ones provided by the Home Owners Association, and the lack of proper color matching with the walls a furnature just showed that Tony did this in a rush.  
  
  
Peter had always wondered why Tony had suddenly bought this _ludicrously_ expensive penthouse, all to have it half furnished and empty for most of the time. What was the point?  
  
  
Was it just a place for Tony to bring his one night stands?  
  
  
Peter shivered as he ate another spoonful of ice cream. That seemed to do the trick, as he suddenly dropped his spoon into his bowl, staring at the wall in front of him.  
  
  
He had sex. With _Tony Stark_. The billionaire who could have anyone he wants, the man who built a suit of iron and Peter had always admired as a kid, the amazing industry owner who Peter intended to ask for a scholarship into MIT. What he had done could literally ruin all of that.  
  
  
Had they both just lost control? Tony could classify this as a mistake, and then what? Continue on as mentor and student while the world continued to spin on? Iron Man and Spider-Man just simply could not be in a relationship.  
  
  
Just when Peter thought he was starting to calm down, the fimilar ring tone of Black Sabbath started to play through the empty room. Peter pulled his headphones out and glanced at his phone on the table. He already knew the name before he even glanced at the device.  
  
  
Pushing his bowl to the side and standing up as fast as he could without feeling too much pain, Peter grabbed his cell phone and reluctantly accepted the call.  
  
  
Complete silence.  
  
  
_"Peter...I know you're there."_ Tony's voice was so soft, deep; Peter knew that the man had just woken up. He was slightly comforted knowing that Tony's first possible thought was the teenager he fucked until the very early morning.  
  
  
"Yeah...yeah I am." Peter ran his hands through his hair, turning around to face towards the door, sighing internally when Tony coughed.  
  
  
_"We need to sort this out,"_ Was all he said, but then added, _"now. Not in person."_  
  
  
Peter cringed at his tone. He was being spoken to like a child. What good was that?  
  
  
"Um, yeah okay." Peter was just agreeing with everything, he decided this would be the best course of action for the time being.  
  
  
_"Let's start with how you're feeling about it."_  
  
  
Peter didn't say anything.  
  
  
_"I can't help you if you don't talk, sweetheart."_  
  
  
Now that, made Peter's heart flutter and got him speaking.  
  
  
"Well, physically I feel sore, as you can imagine. You did a uh...good job so it isn't too bad." Peter sat down on the couch. "Can I be honest, Mr. Stark?"  
  
  
He heard Tony laugh. _"Of course, kid."_  
  
  
"I don't remember most of it. It's a blur. I must have been so tired once I got back..." Peter shook his head.  
  
  
_"That's...interesting. People usually remember sleeping with the one and only Tony Stark."_ A giggle followed that statement, truly meaning to be lighthearted, but Peter's heart went cold at the thought of Tony sleeping with however many people he wanted.  
  
  
_"Oh, um, I mean, I'm just good in bed. I'm sure you know."_ Tony must have obviously sensed his discomfort through the phone.  
  
  
"Yeah. What about...you? How do you, uh, feel?" Peter felt awkward asking a grown man how he felt during sex like...well, a teenager.  
  
  
He was so bad at this.  
  
  
_"I had fun. I really did. I assume you've thought about the risks?"_ Tony seemed like a thoughtful person, hence why he was genuinely interested in the answers Peter seemed to be giving. He appreciated the gesture.  
  
  
"Yeah. I was thinking about them earlier." Peter looked at the cracks in the floor. "...will there be rules?"  
  
  
_"Rules?"_ Tony questioned.  
  
  
"Yeah...rules."  
  
  
Peter heard shuffling around for a little bit, words seemingly absent from the air. More shuffling. Tony must be getting out of bed. Peter then realized what the silence must have been for.  
  
  
"You don't even want to continue this very much, do you?"  
  
  
It slipped out of his mouth before Peter could stop it. It was sort of the truth, he knew that. Tony even knew that was implied in his silence.  
  
  
_"Look, Peter...I want to continue this. Slower."_ Tony sighed out eventually, after a lull of quietness. Peter sat up straight, his back having the urge to crack so it can open up and let him stretch further.  
  
  
"You do?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
Peter was speechless in that moment, unable to say anything in fear that he would somehow mess up the progress he had made.  
  
  
"So what do we do now?" Peter asked instead of freaking out, calmly asking Tony. "Do we just...date? How's that even going to work?"  
  
  
_"Peter, no. We cannot date. The only place that seems logical to see you is the penthouse."_ Tony sighed this sentence out, obviously struggling to say the words.  
  
  
Silence follows.  
  
  
_"Okay...rules. Obviously, you cannot utter a single word about this...situation."_ Peter heard the sound of running water in the background before he continued. _"I will get you keys to the penthouse soon, you can visit whenever you would like. FRIDAY will notify me when you arrive. Feel free to do whatever you want in there. As you've most likely seen, there is not much to mess up. All surveillance footage is set to be locked with many codes that only I can unlock so we don't have much of a problem there...."_  
  
  
Tony trailed off then, and Peter was just nodding along, almost as if the other man could somehow see him doing so.  
  
  
"Is this only sex?" Peter said blurted out. He truly didn't mean to say it so bluntly, but it made sense to know now before Peter crossed lines of relationships that is forbidden to cross in sex-only predicaments.  
  
  
_"Oh, Peter. I wish it was."_

 

 


	9. The Infection of Rot

* * *

_"Tell me,_  
  
_If I run away,_  
  
_How long will I be?"_

* * *

  
  
  
Peter groaned and let his head fall forward to the cool glass, effectively gathering all the sweat and oil from his forehead onto the perfectly polished material. In the distance, he saw the scattered skyline of Manhattan, the night sky clear from clouds. No stars could be seen from Peter's view, however.   
  
  
Peter heard Tony moan and latch on to the back of his neck, effectively thrusting into him from behind. He stood rigid, being held up against the cool glass of the penthouse.   
  
  
Peter wasn't going to lie to himself. He hadn't expected the sex to come so quickly when he had first stopped by the apartment. He had anticipated another session of moaning and thrusting, just not as soon as he walked into the door when Tony attacked him with kisses and grinding their hips together.   
  
  
Not like Peter could deny that reaction.   
  
  
One of Tony's hands wrapped around his chest just then, the other still having a death grip on Peter's bicep to stabilize them both against the glass wall of the penthouse, facing the vast city. Peter could see his breath condensate against the clear glass, temporarily blocking his view of Tony from the angle he has behind him. The lights in the penthouse were on full, creating a reflection more so of Peter and Tony fucking rather than the city skyline.   
  
  
Could anyone see them?   
  
  
"I love how you open up for me, sweetheart..." Tony practically growled into Peter's ear. He felt himself shiver as Tony pushed particularly hard on him, causing them both to jerk and moan. Peter felt weak in the knees when Tony called him that.   
  
  
"Only for you....ah!" Tony used his teeth to bite into Peter's shoulder just as he was finishing his sentence.   
  
  
"I'm attending a party of sorts," Tony started in Peter's ear, gasping for breath. "Would you like to tag along as my intern?"   
  
  
Peter moved his hands on the glass to a new spot where there wasnt oil and sweat on the material, and pondered the question.   
  
  
"You're inside me and...you're making dinner plans?" He rasped out, his throat dry.   
  
  
"It's not dinner plans," the older man said, continuing the conversation. Peter wondered why he wasn't focusing on what he was doing.   
  
  
"Small talk later. Fuck me, now." Peter had cut off Tony before he could finish the sentence, effectively earning some quick thrusts.   
  
  
They both came not too long after that, knowing full well that Peter had school the next day and Tony had meetings upstate. They were rushing, and who could blame them? This was only the third time that Tony had took him within the past week.   
  
  
The second time was in the shower.  
  
  
To Peter, this wasn't even close to enough.   
  
  
When Tony finally stilled inside of him, Peter was panting and sweating all over the glass, desperately trying to catch his breath. He made the mistake of looking down, only to find his own drying cum against the window, slowly streaking down to the floor, mixed with more pools of sweat and grease.   
  
  
Peter cringed.   
  
  
Tony pulled out, already starting to become flaccid. It slightly burned when he did so, and Peter grinded his teeth together to keep himself from moaning at the sensation. It had always happened like this, where he became overly sensitive and aware of his own body and how he felt after sex. Almost as if his senses were somehow dialed up even more than he had ever known previously.   
  
  
Peter decided to be the first to move out from Tony's grasp, turning himself around so he fully faced the older man. They were still panting, trying to catch their impossible speeding breaths, syncing up and eventually slowing down a beat.   
  
  
They stayed that way for God knows how long. Tony looked down at Peter with a look that the younger boy couldn't decipher.   
  
  
This was particularly unusual for the two of them, Peter noticed. He had never seen Tony look at him for this long. Given, they haven't had sex for very long, and the aftercare would usually have kicked in by now, but yet here Tony stood, unmoving and staring down at him.   
  
  
"Shower?" He asked, reaching out to touch Peter's jaw, and all Peter could do was give a small nod before starting to move his legs towards the huge walk-in, waterfall style shower.  
  
  
-  
  
  
The hot water rolled all down his back, effectively making goosebumps raise on his body as Peter sighed at the sensation. Tony's voice cut through the steam like a knife through butter just then, immediately disturbing Peter of his quiet thoughts.   
  
  
"Are we going to talk about this?" Tony asked, as he was reaching for the soap behind Peter's head. Peter looked up at the older man, a confused look in his face. He had tried to avoid the topic as much as possible, especially from openly talking about it with Tony. Peter hadn't even really thought of the whole situation in the past couple days; all he could think about was how he was feeling and how he only wanted to feel the same things again the next time he came to the penthouse. The thought of talking hadn't even crossed his mind.   
  
  
"Talk about what?" Peter decided to play dumb, for the moment. What worse could it do?   
  
  
"You know what I'm talking about." Tony ran his hands down his own arms and chest, soaping up his skin. It made Peter's mouth almost water. "We have to decide what we're going to do about this."  
  
  
"What else is there to do?" Peter snapped back, slight annoyance in his voice. Tony stopped lathering his skin with the (most likely expensive) soap, staring back at the younger boy in front of him. Peter continued.   
  
  
"No, seriously. What is left? _Dating_? That isn't the most realistic thing right now. What else is there to talk about?  
  
  
Tony had a shocked expression on his face. Peter almost took back what he said, after seeing the way that Tony looked genuinly hurt, but he held his ground.   
  
  
Perhaps he was more mature than he thought.   
  
  
The shower spray was the only sound in tbe cramped space, and then Tony just stared off at the side of Peter's head. Peter could tell the conflict inside of Tony just by the energy he was giving off.  
  
  
"Do you want me to wash you?" He suddenly asked, and Peter just nodded in defeat, dropping the subject.   
  
  
-  
  
  
Tony slipped on the comfy white robe, wiping off his feet on the towel placed neatly on the stone floor. He looked up at Peter, the pale and naked back of the boy, and sighed.   
  
  
"I heard that." Peter mumbled to nothing, and Tony practically rolled his eyes.   
  
  
"I'm going to sleep." The younger boy continued, and before giving Tony a chance to even respond, left the room suddenly, leaving the empty space in front of Tony's eyes.   
  
  
"Go to my bed, Peter!" Tony called after him, hearing a small 'fuck off!', then the silence returning.   
  
  
He needed a drink.   
  
  
Cleaning up after Peter and himself, Tony shut the light off in the pristine bathroom and headed over to the liquor section of the penthouse. Not sure what he wanted to drink, Tony grabbed a random bottle and poured into another chilled glass.   
  
  
The nostalgia of the week before hand hit him suddenly.   
  
  
The pouring of his drink. The unbuttoning of his white shirt. The sound of a leather belt hitting the ground. The creaking of the bed. The sounds Peter made.   
  
  
Tony slammed the bottle onto the small table and drank from the glass. Time to move on.   
  
  
The penthouse had a surround sound system implemented with the previous owner, and Tony took this to the max when he found out. Using his tech, he made it completely wireless, and entirely voice controlled by FRIDAY as well as manual input from an iPod dock in the main living room. Currently, Bruce Springsteen was playing throughout the entire apartment, volume down low. All the lights in the apartment were off too.   
  
  
Tony took his drink into where he and Peter had fucked in front of the window. He needed to get it cleaned.   
  
  
He stood there, the drink in his hand, looking at the horizon.   
  
  
Peter did have a point. What would they do now? They definitely cannot date. There would be no point. Would they continue to fuck? Tony had to admit, it was a different experiance all together. It was different from the fact that others had sex before Tony had come along, and showing Peter the ropes to sex had been something new altogether.   
  
  
Did Peter think this was wrong as much as Tony did? And when had the kid become so mature to think he can handle stuff like this? Tony could barely handle the mental pressure, let alone what the kid must be feeling.   
  
  
The attitude the kid was starting to develop made Tony's skin crawl.   
  
  
Questions slurred in Tony's mind, but then the alchohol started to fill his system, and it numbed his thoughts. Sighing, he stripped off his robe somewhere off to the side, downed the rest of his glass, set it down on the table, and took one last look at the skyline before heading to his own bed.   
  
  
Peter was laying on his side, facing away from the windows. He looked almost at peace, the yellow light from the city casting shadows along the pale shoulders and dusty brown hair. Tony crawled in next to him, and the younger immediately stirred.   
  
  
"I can smell the liquor from here." He remarks annoyingly.   
  
  
"Get over it." Tony snarled back.   
  
  
They laid for a while, Tony listening to the slow breathing of Peter before he realized that Peter finally fell under. Tony tried his best to lay still, his arm wrapped around Peter's waist, and tries his best to get some small hours of sleep. 


	10. Rot That Never Stops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut and feelings

* * *

_"You can find another me tomorrow_  
  
_And that's the hardest pill to swallow"_

* * *

  
  
  
  
"Is that a _hickey_?"  
  
  
Peter slammed his locker shut as his eyes widened, reaching up for the back of his neck out of instinct. The high collared flannel shirt had failed its use, he guessed.  
  
  
He turned around to see Ned, standing there with his mouth agape, wondering what was on Peter's neck.  
  
  
There was a lull of silence for a moment; he had been caught red handed. How was he supposed to explain that he had sex with the most important and most recognizable man in all of the country?  
  
  
"Uh...yeah. It is." Peter stammered out, looking back at his locker. His books were scattered, and he quickly fumbled with them, getting them organized and neat before Ned spoke up again.  
  
  
"You're having _sex_? With who?" Ned stuttered, and Peter just nodded as he shut his locker with a slam. It rattled the lock as Peter walked away, Ned walking closely behind him.  
  
  
"It was....no one you know." Peter chose his words carefully as he answered, trying his best not to give himself away.  
  
  
The students walked past them both in a hurry to get to their next class, and Peter had two sets of stairs go climb before he got to his next class. Ned was on a different floor than he was, so Peter expected him to drop the subject soon.  
  
  
When Ned didn't, Peter felt like slapping him.  
  
  
"You're _seriously_ not going to tell me? I'm your best friend!" Ned's arms flew out in a defensive way, while Peter just kept walking straight to the stairs, seeing his friend in the corner of his eye.  
  
  
"I'd rather not talk about my sex life?" Peter said, finally reaching the stairs. He turned towards Ned, sighing when he got a disappointing look thrown at him.  
  
  
"I'm going to be late." Peter stated and started to head up.  
  
  
-  
  
  
Peter felt the Penthouse door slam behind him. FRIDAY must have started sending notifications to Tony when he had walked on the steps of the penthouse and entered in the code, because Tony was standing in front of the couch, staring at Peter with a frown.  
  
  
"You're failing Physics." A simple statement. " _Physics_? Of all things you could purposely fail, you choose physics?"  
  
  
Peter felt a sudden flare of anger well up in him.  
  
  
"You're looking at my grades now?!" He practically felt himself scream. His throat already hurts, and his head is spinning. How _dare_ he-  
  
  
"You do know I get the school newsletter, right?" Tony asked him. He picked up the slim piece of paper, the sound fluttering in his hands. Peter's eyes widened but then went neutral before he put his hands over his head.  
  
  
"Your aunt thought it would be a good idea if I sign up and check your grades. And it's a good thing I did kid, you're slipping in you're classes."  
  
  
" _I'm not a fucking kid!_ " Peter yelled. Tony took a step back.  
  
  
He truly wasn't. Peter felt his heartbeat in his ears, and felt his feet begin to pace. He walked back and forth within the space of the living room, connecting to the front door. He only stopped when Tony swiftly made his way over to Peter and physically stopped him with his hands on both of his shoulders.  
  
  
"I _know_ you know how to do physics." Tony stepped closer to him, and Peter felt anger and arousal course through him. "I'm the one that taught you."  
  
  
-  
  
  
Tony took another sip of his drink.  
  
  
He had been drinking a lot these days, but he needed one now for what he was about to do.  
  
  
Peter was tied up on his master bed. His hands along the headboard, his legs able to roam free. One of Tony's expensive, Stefano Ricci ties wrapped around his head as a blindfold.  
  
  
He sipped the fine wine. He chose differently in drink, mainly of the headache he had pulsing through his forehead. He really, really shouldn't be having sex with the kid with this brain splitting headache. That's what the wine is for.  
  
  
After the living room debacle, Peter leaned in to kiss him. He knew it would lead to this. However, what he hadn't expected was when he threw Peter down on the bed, he was begging Tony to be tied down, face in the sheets and ass up in the air.  
  
  
He needed the wine to dull his senses before he fully let himself go.  
  
  
They haven't truly fucked hard yet. It was more slow love making rather than anything. Tony was starting to get worried about hurting the kid, and that's why he was standing in front of the penthouse with his pants unbuckled, white shirt unbuttoned halfway and sticking out in all directions, and his fingerprints staining the clear wineglass.  
  
  
He heard a moan from the bedroom and decided it was time to get his shit together.  
  
  
He downs the wine, making his head dizzy, before filling the glass once more with the bottle on the small coffee table. Stepping into the bedroom with more wine, he saw Peter rutting himself into the white sheets. He stood in the doorway for a minute, enjoying the view of Peter fully hard and attempting to gain some pleasure from Tony's absence.  
  
  
"Did I give you permission to do that, baby?" He found himself asking. He didn't find his voice to be his own. It was forced and too low than normal.  
  
  
Peter moaned into the sheets again but stopped moving his hips into the bed.  
  
  
"Good boy." Walking to the side of the bed and setting the wine off on the nightstand, he began to shove off his pants and his shirt, but keeps the white linen polo in his hands as he comes up behind Peter. He sets it aside for later.  
  
  
Tony climbed up on to the bed, perfectly behind Peter as he looked down at the teenager in front of him. His pale ass was completely on display for him to see, the perfect curve practically mocking him for everything he's done to the kid.  
  
  
God, he survived in a cave and built his own suit, for _this_?  
  
  
Tony reached forward and palmed Peter, earning a groan and a plea. "Please...please fuck me Tony."  
  
  
And so he did just that.  
  
  
Prepping had gone by quickly, Tony half paying attention to the boy in his arms, squirming at every touch or moaning at every press. He breathed out a sign of relief as he pulled his fingers out, Peter finally feeling relaxed enough around 3 digits.  
  
  
Normally, Tony would have rushed at the thought of being inside Peter once more. In the moment, all he could see was a teenager he managed to fuck up, just like everything else he had ever touched.  
  
  
The thought did _wonders_ to his hard on.  
  
  
He needed to do this. It's what Peter wants.  
  
  
Grabbing the lube once more and costing his dick, he looked down at the perfect curve of Peter's ass in front of him and forgot about his headache. Tony forgot about all the moral and ethical issues this caused. He forgot about the way he corrupted his mentee, the youngest on the team, a _teenager_. It all seemed to fade away as he sunk himself back inside of Peter.  
  
  
The moan that Tony heard sounded pornographic. The warm, wet heat around his cock made him groan in return as he started to thrust inside Peter, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as me moved his hips. It felt good, of course it would. Peter was small, delicate even, to some extent. It almost hurt his dick, he was so tight.  
  
  
Getting frustrated, Tony started to fuck harder into Peter, earning grunts in protest.  
  
  
"Tony, I-" Peter was cut off by a smack to his thigh, effectively shutting him up. Tony looked down as the boy shuddered under him, cumming on the white sheets below him. Tony sighed as he knew it would stain.  
  
  
He had an unrelenting pace with his hips, ramming into Peter over and over, most surely to bruise later in the evening. He almost didn't care about it anymore, he just craved the sweet release pooling in his lower belly. He practically demanded it in that second, wanting nothing more than to cum inside the boy.  
  
  
Peter wouldn't stop groaning from the contact, seemingly from his overstimulation of Tony's continued action. The moans started to sound pained, and before Tony could think to stop, he grabbed the white polo shirt to his right and wrapped it around Peter's head, in his mouth and effectively gagging him. He held on to the sleeves as he fucked into Peter from behind, the kid's neck craned towards the ceiling. His moans were muffled now, quieter, and Tony felt his headache pulse within his skull.  
  
  
He came shortly after that, pistoning his hips deep inside Peter, who also shuddered with his own orgasm; something that Tony didn't even know he had for a second time. An idea suddenly popped into his head when he pulled out; how many times could Peter have an orgasm in one night?  
  
  
That would have to wait, if Tony had enough energy to come to a conclusion.  
  
  
He fell over to the left, leaving Peter tied up and blind. His whole body hurt. He heard Peter spit out the shirt, coughing and pulling against the restraints.  
  
  
Tony felt sweat all over his body, his throat felt cracked, and his breathing was out of control. He reached for his wine, downing half the glass in one sip. He needed something stronger, Tony knew that; the wine was just dull enough to calm the headache, however it wasn't getting him drunk enough. God, if he could just get drunk _faster_ -  
  
  
"Are you...going to untie me?" Peter asked. His voice was dry, quiet, and slight fear woven within it.  
  
  
"Open your mouth." Tony said without thinking. The confusion on Peter's face was evident.  
  
  
"Wh-"  
  
  
"Open your fucking mouth, baby." Tony said, sterner. He lifted Peter's head up by his hair, craned his neck back, and held the wine glass by the teenagers lips. Tony tilted the glass back, and let the red liquid flow into Peter's mouth.  
  
  
A sound of surprise filled the otherwise silent room, and Peter drank the wine happily. Tony, pulling it from his mouth after a couple of sips, set the wine down and started to untie Peter.  
  
  
"Thank you..." the kid groaned. He rolled over on his side, facing away from Tony and scooting back into the older man's arms.  
  
  
"You need to get your physics grade up." Tony stated. It was a simple sentance, an order, more like. He set the wine down on the nightstand, only a sip or two left. It was only then that he saw his vision slightly start to cloud and his headache started to dull. He needed to sleep.  
  
  
"I will." Peter responded, and Tony wrapped his arms around the younger innocent boy in his arms, hoping that somehow, the pureness would seep from Peter into his own skin and transfuse into his blood, reach into his scars where the arc reactor rested and into his heart that was threatened by shrapnel so long ago. Something, anything to let himself be rid of this monster that he saw in the reflection of the glass windows of the penthouse, holding Peter into a dreamless sleep.


	11. Beginnings of Symptoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna have a lot more plot twists and I'm making the story longer than I originally intended. 
> 
> I am also going to completely disregard the events of Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. If you spoil either movie I will delete your comment. 
> 
> Also I have the next three or so chapters written so I will try and update once a week now that school is out.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated.

* * *

_"I've lived long enough to see_  
  
_You will never be craving me."_

* * *

  
  
  
Tony awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. The familiar ring of Black Sabbath filled the apartment, and he jolted awake with Peter still in his arms.  
  
  
"Shut that damn thing off..." the kid groaned and moved to lay on his stomach, slipping out of Tony's grip. A pang of hurt laced itself in Tony's breath as he slid out from the bed, his nakedness giving him chills as he reached for underwear. The phone continued to ring in the other room, nearing the end of the guitar riff.  
  
  
Not even looking at the caller ID, he answered quite gruffly.  
  
  
"Who is this and what do you want." He groaned, the beginnings of a migraine edging into the forefront of his mind.  
  
  
The voice of Everett Ross made his blood run cold.  
  
  
"What are you doing right now?" He asked calmly, and Tony glanced towards the bedroom, where Peter was soundly resting in the queen sized bed.  
  
  
"Staying in Manhattan. Why?" Tony looked around the penthouse trying to find any sign of the backpack Peter had, finally seeing it by the front door. Briskly walking that direction, he grabbed the bag and set it on the table nearby.  
  
  
"On a weekday?" Ross questioned. He glanced at his watch; it was a Thursday. "We need you at the compound."  
  
  
"Gotta go." Tony hung up the phone and glanced at the time. 10:53.  
  
  
-  
  
  
Peter had heard the smash of glass before Tony was yelling his name.  
  
  
"Peter?" He screamed, the clouds of sleep starting to clear and making him more alert. "Where is your phone!"  
  
  
His ass was sore, and Peter was too tired to answer. Before long, Tony stormed into the bedroom and threw the sheets off of of his lightly sleeping form. He groaned, wishing that he had the warmth for just five more minutes.  
  
  
"Where is your damn phone, Peter." Tony's sounded aggressive from the side of the bed, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the older man in front of him glaring down.  
  
  
"In my backpack? I think..." he mumbled into the sheets, cuddling up to a pillow. It was then that he realized he was naked, and Peter quickly snapped into reality.  
  
  
He never told May where he was, and he was late to school.  
  
  
Peter didn't move, he felt like he couldn't with the sudden realization that he had been off the grid. It had seemed like days since he last talked to his aunt.  
  
  
"Pete, seriously, get up. I'm driving you to school." Tony attitude and tone suddenly shifted towards Peter, and he felt it radiate off of the millionaire.  
  
  
Giving off a grunt, Peter stood and stretched his arms over his head. Expecting to see Tony looking at him as he flexed his naked body. However, he felt disappointment as Tony was focused on taking the sheets off of the bed.  
  
  
What was his problem?  
  
  
"Hurry up kid," he started, "you're going to school. I'm not telling you again."  
  
  
Peter stood for a moment, looking at the man in front of him, who was frantically trying to clean up the bedroom. He seemed stressed, that much was clear. What was wrong with him? He had also used that word again; _kid_.  
  
  
Peter had been trying his best to stay relaxed about the situation. He was sixteen, a sophomore in highschool, fucking his mentor who was easily three times his age, not to meantion it was one of the richest men on earth, and _Tony freaking Stark_ of all people.  
  
  
Iron Man.  
  
  
God, this whole thing was stupid. Peter needed to know what the endgame for this was. Was this a relationship? Could they even _do_ that when Peter is so young? What they're doing is illegal to begin with. And the optics? It's a terrible situation for the Avengers as a whole as well as Stark Industries.  
  
  
Not to even meantion the whole miscommunication. Peter knew that Tony was drinking again, more than usual, and the reasoning was obvious. The conversation in the shower from not too long ago was still fresh in his mind, when he snapped at Tony for implying they could date. Peter wanted to, desperately, but what was the point?  
  
  
All this, because Peter thought they might someday _fall in love_. What if he already had? The morning after their first time he said he wished it was just sex. Tony had _feelings_.  
  
  
He felt pathetic.  
  
  
Giving up resistance, he ran his hands through his hair and picked up the clothes from yesterday afternoon. Tony made no comment as he dressed in the old clothing, and when he finally buckled his belt, Tony left the room to organize his departure.  
  
  
-  
  
  
Tony's hands gripped the wheel of the Audi, trying his best not to speed as he drove Peter in the passenger seat.  
  
  
He was so _screwed_.  
  
  
He called aunt May after he had hung up on Ross, leaving her a voice mail on how Peter had spent the night at the lab; they were working on new configuration for the suit. He had panicked and rushed Peter out of the penthouse, hoping he could make it on time before he had his lunch period.  
  
  
What did Ross even want?  
  
  
"I let May know that you were in the lab." He started off, lowering the music for a moment to talk to the boy next to him. The kid hasn't even touched his phone since yesterday, and it was making him anxious.  
  
  
Peter could almost sense the concern. "I don't want to open anything right now. Might be a lot of messages."  
  
  
Tony kept silent after that, turning the radio up and tuning everything out until he pulled to the front gates of the school. He put the car in park, and looked over at Peter.  
  
  
He was sitting hunched over, elbow on the door holding his head up. He looked exhausted, and that was incredibly Tony's fault.  
  
  
"Do you need a note?" He saw Peter nod slightly in the corner of his eye, and he grabbed a note pad out of the center console.  
  
  
_Please excuse Peter Parker for being late._  
  
  
_If you don't believe the validity of this note, fell free to call the attached number._  
  
  
_-Tony Stark_  
  
  
"There you go, kid." Tony had started calling him _kid_ again, for his own sanity. A reminder of their age gap.  
  
  
"Stop calling me that." And there we go with the attitude with Peter.  
  
  
"That's what you are, Peter." Tony sighed out. It must have been a bad choice of words, because Peter grabbed the note out of Tony's hands and slammed the car door behind him.  
  
  
Tony considered texting him, but decided he will later.  
  
  
-  
  
  
He felt the paper cut his hands. It was slightly crumpled, and Peter worried if he smashed it more it wouldn't be believable for the attendance office.  
  
  
The lady sitting behind the desk gave him an odd look and dialed the number, but stuttered on the phone as he heard his mentor on the other side. His stomach churned and his heart practically stopped for a moment before starting back up on it's usual rhythm when the phone was put back on the line.  
  
  
The abcense ended up being excused, and he made his way to 5th period.  
  
  
While at lunch, Ned rushed up to his side.  
  
  
"Dude! There's a party tonight at Flash's house." He chirped, and this got Peter's attention. A party? Like, an actual party with teenagers drinking alcohol?  
  
  
"Are we considering to go?" He asked Ned, looking up from his phone. No texts from Tony.  
  
  
"I mean, I'd rather not go to see Flash, but what kind of idiot teenagers would we be if we _didn't_ go?" Ned sat across from Peter, pulling out his own phone before showing him the address.  
  
  
Peter considered the options. He could go, get stupid wasted and forget about everything recently, or don't go and get caught up in his nightmares later in the night.  
  
  
The former seemed like a better option.  
  
  
Peter did end up texting his mom, who completely understood the excuse that Tony had given her. He did ask about the party, and she offered to drive him and Ned to the house. He told Ned in 8th period, and they were set to go.  
  
  
Until Peter's phone buzzed in his pocket, 7 minutes before the bell rung to let everyone out of class for the day.  
  
  
_"You available later tonight? Was thinking of taking you up to the compound."_  
  
  
What kind of man did Tony Stark think he was?  
  
  
Without thinking, he typed out a quick reply.  
  
  
_Can't tonight. I have a thing._  
  
  
-  
  
  
_"Can't tonight. I have a thing."_  
  
  
The text was impersonal, Tony could decipher that much from the short text.  
  
  
_I have a thing._  
  
  
What thing? What could Peter possibly have to do? Tony's only worried about if the kid was in trouble or not, and wanted to see the kid tonight in his lab, working on math homework or something on his suit; possibly mess around in the night and sleep with the boy in his arms, desperately hoping that he was okay.  
  
  
The more this goes on, the more Tony felt selfish and needed the boy around him.  
  
  
This couldn't be feelings, right?  
  
  
The phone in his hand buzzed again, another text from Peter coming through.  
  
  
_Sorry_.  
  
  
Well, at least he was making an effort.  
  
  
Now, there he sat on a leather couch within the compound upstate, fiddling around with his phone until Ross called him into the room to discuss what he wanted him for.  
  
  
He was scared, admittedly. Tony sighed into his hands, hoping that this will blow over quickly. He actually had some ideas for the new suit for Peter, along with some more 'experiments' he intended to pull on the kid. If he wasn't going to show up at the compound that evening, Tony could bet on staying at the compound for the next week and disappearing in the lab.  
  
  
"Tony?" Ross asked, sticking his head outside of the conference room door. Tony stood up and smiled, shaking his hand and heading inside.  
  
  
The agent picked up a stack of papers and set them down neatly, before clearing his throat.  
  
  
"Let's get to the point, Stark. Who have you been screwing?"


End file.
